#sorry the necklace is like that i was a bit sloshed

[josephtrohman]

anyone else take bathroom selfies or is it just me and that guy from fall out boy

[the-californicationist]

Hey🐻❤ Can i say something ? Yeah ? Sooo

Price and Reader have sex in an abandoned parking lot after going to a bar🍻

That's all I had to say 🙇‍♀️❤

omg hot!!! hope this is kinda what you were looking for. im so sorry for the wait. thank you for being patient with me!

The After Party

The MacTavish wedding was the party of the century, and you were feeling the effects of their pricey Brut champagne. Your husband, John, had stolen a bottle for you, and you were nearly half-done with it, carefully pulling it up to your lips and letting the tiny bubbles pop on your tongue. 

Even though it was almost dawn, the party was still raging inside the bar Johnny had rented out. John had taken you aside and whispered into your ear,

“C’mon. Have a smoke with me, missus.”

While the newlyweds were distracted by their guests, so you and the captain had made a break for it, sneaking out of the reception undetected. You smiled, following him out back into the parking lot, admiring his ass in those silky black slacks. He always looked so fit when he got dressed up, even if he hated every minute of it.

John headed to his truck, popping open the door and digging around for another cigar. You leaned against the tailgate, trying to find some relief for your aching feet. John noticed your discomfort,

“Those heels botherin’ you, love?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Here,” he helped you up onto his tailgate, sitting you on the cold metal, “Let’s sit for a while. Give me a chance to enjoy this.” He wiggled the fat cigar in his hands, smiling at you. 

“Aren’t they gonna miss us?” You nodded to the bar, listening to the sound of muffled dance music coming from its bright, glowing windows. 

“Ah, I’m sure the happy couple is plenty distracted.”

John hopped up on the tailgate with you, puffing on his cigar, making sure the tip was evenly lit. When he was happy with it, he offered it to you. You took it, sucking the smoke into your mouth and tasting its sweet tobacco and vanilla notes. It was a huge cigar, so too much of it and you’d really be wasted. The champagne was already enough to make your cheeks hot. 

You closed your eyes, trying to sober up a bit. John’s hand rubbed your bare back, fiddling with the straps of your low-cut dress as he fussed over you. 

“Is my girl a little bevied up tonight? Maybe I should take that bottle back,” he laughed at you, teasing you good-naturedly. 

“No,” you clutched the bottle like a prize, playing with him, “Pry it out of my cold, dead hands, mister.”

He held his hands up in mock-surrender, 

“Alright, alright. Just don’t blame me when you get into trouble.”

“What trouble?” You took his cigar from him again and purposefully took a long drag, challenging him, trying to goad him into flirting with you. 

He fell into your trap, chuckling as he took one of his fingers and traced his way from your sparkling gold necklace all the way down into the cleavage of your dress, making you gasp, 

“You know what trouble,” he leaned in for a smoky kiss, stealing his stick back, “My woman, dressed like that, gettin’ sloshed on champagne… I know where this path leads.”

“Oh?” You giggled, running your palm across his heavy thigh, feeling his muscles through the expensive cloth, “Where’s that?”

“I’ll show you.” He raised his eyebrows, getting a little smart with you, and hopped off of the tailgate. He stood in front of you, cigar bitten in his mouth, and used both of his hands to pull you closer to him, forcing your legs apart to accommodate his wide body. 

You giggled, letting yourself be man-handled, enjoying every moment of it. 

Then, he reached both of his warm hands up under the glittering hem of your dress, tracing up your legs, feeling their shaved smoothness, until he found your hips. John smiled, balancing the cigar expertly on his lips, enjoying the surprised look on your face. His fingers twirled around the straps of your thong, and he pulled it off of you, guiding it over your knees and past your strappy heels, admiring the gold lace that filled his palm. 

He brought the panties to his nose and dodged your half-hearted kick as you admonished him, 

“John!” 

“What?” He was incredulous, “I know this smell.”

He had the audacity to sniff them again, and you smacked him on his chest, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him react. John smiled, recoiling, teasing you, 

“Smells like sloshed, horny wife, so it does. Mmm.”

“Oh, my God! What if someone saw you?” You hissed, laughing in pure shock at your husband’s actions. 

“And?” He put on a serious face for you then, pocketing your panties, spreading your legs, and tucking his body between them again, getting right up in your face and taking a long pull from his cigar, letting the smoke linger between you, cascading down his full lip. He snarled, “Who’s gonna stop me? Did you see any bloke in there bigger than me? Stronger, hm?”

You shook your head, feeling your heart race with excitement at his sudden dominance. Even if you knew he was just trying to get you riled up, it was working. 

“Did you see anyone who would have the bollocks to stop me from touching my woman…” His hands were wandering, rubbing your smooth thigh up and down, pulling on the tight muscle of your calf, “Whenever, or wherever I want?”

You shook your head again, biting your lip, leaning back into the bed of the truck, letting your breasts lift towards his face, taunting him with your skin. 

He took one of your shoulder straps and pulled it down, letting it dangle across your arm. As it did, the top of its delicate fabric triangle folded, lower and lower, until the top of your breast was exposed, falling almost as low as your nipple. 

His eyes narrowed, giving you a hard stare,

“Give me your hand, missus.”

You held out your hand, palm up, submitting to his whim. 

He took it in his and pulled you forward, lowering your arm until your fingers felt the rigid marble cock he was concealing behind his zipper. John pressed your palm on him, flexing his muscle for you, letting you feel his desire.

You were leaning so far over that his face was right by your ear, and he whispered to you, menacingly, 

“If I wanted to, I’d have taken you in that bar, and there’s not a fuckin’ man alive who could stop me.”

“So,” you said, staring him down, showing him your fearless hunger, “Take me, then.”

It was his turn to wear a mask of surprise on his face, but it quickly turned to joy. He hopped up into the truck bed with you and pulled you inside, lifting the tailgate closed with a loud slam. 

John kept a thick blanket in the truck bed for emergencies, and he folded it up, laying you down on it, making sure you were comfortable. He kissed your neck, but he wasted no time in peeling down the top of your dress, exposing your nipples to the night air. You took the cigar from him so he could suckle on your flesh, leaving little hickies where he wanted to, something for you to admire later. 

You smoked his cigar, letting it get you high as your husband fondled you. His mouth was hot and greedy, and you realized John was a little more worked up than you had previously assumed. You could feel him thrusting against you absentmindedly, not realizing he was doing it, rubbing himself against your beaded gown.

You caught his furry jaw in your hands, pulling him away from his delicious work, dragging him up to kiss your mouth. You shared his smoke between you, letting it fill your senses. You’d take a drag in, share it with him, letting it fall into his lips, and then kiss him through it, tasting each other among the warm notes. 

“John,” you whispered between his wet kisses, “I need you.”

“Need to work up to it, love. Don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered, rucking up your dress. 

You smiled, knowing he would realize the truth in just a moment. Indeed, as soon as you felt his fingertips dip into your pussy, his eyes shot up in shock and wonder. He breathed in a gasp, dipping his finger into you again, not believing what he was feeling, 

“You are so wet for me. Naughty girl. So ready for your man’s cock, hm?”

“I told you,” you kissed him, feeling his finger sink deeper inside of you, drowning in you, “I’m ready for you, John. Don’t make me wait.”

He brought his hand to his mouth and sucked you off of his skin. Then, he went back for seconds, dipping his forefinger into you like you were the batter of a cake, sugary sweet and forbidden. 

Then, once he had his fill of your taste, he fumbled with his slacks, raking his black leather belt off in one long pull, letting it clatter somewhere in the metal bed of the truck. His fingers pried open his button and yanked down his zipper, freeing his fat rod and jerking it with his hand. 

Unceremoniously, and in a bit of a rush, he mounted you, rucking up your dress even further. You spread yourself for him, wrapping your legs around his strong glutes, feeling them squeeze together to help him thrust into your hungry core. 

It was a tight fit, as usual. John was always so heavy and thick; you had a hard time working up to his size. But, you took a deep breath and let your wetness glide him in. His ragged sigh of relief was intoxicating. 

“Oh, bloody hell, missus.” He furrowed his brow as if in pain.

“You alright, John?” You tried to relax, but you could feel your body responding without you, pulsing around him with a warm, eagerness. 

“You’re warm, baby. Just what I needed. So fuckin’ good to me.”

He ducked his head into the crook of your neck and began to thrust into you, deeper and deeper until he found his end. In the back of your mind, as you gazed up at the sparkling stars, you hoped no one could hear you, but your husband’s earlier dominance made you care a little less. And as he built you up to a frothing orgasm, you found yourself caring not at all. 

Suddenly, the music from the bar got louder, and you heard the door slam closed to the bar. John stilled above you, covering you with his body, watching over his shoulder for someone to come by. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, and you gave his cock a squeeze from inside of you, pulling at his shaft with your muscle. He looked down at you, smiling, and gave you a quick pulse in return, teasing you. Both of you were clearly excited about the prospect of being caught. 

Footsteps made their way through the gravel lot, the loud jingle of keys, a door opening and slamming shut. Then, their engine revved and they pulled away, leaving you alone again. 

“Filthy little thing,” John whispered, picking up his pace again, “Squeezin’ me like that. You tryin’ to get caught, missus?”

“Just wanna make you feel good, John. Want to feel you come in me.”

“Christ,” he lamented, clenching his teeth and fucking you faster, obviously heated by your words and your wet, sticky desire, “Squeeze me again, then. Yeah… ungh… just like that. Keep doin’ that, pretty girl. You’ll get your wish.”

When he thrust into you, you tried to relax, letting his cock slip inside. Then, when he tried to leave, you twisted your muscles against him, pulling him in, trying to milk his come from his swollen head. It was driving him wild. His eyes fluttered, rolling back into his head as he thrust into you, harder and harder, chasing down your orgasm with a vengeance. 

He put his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself, growling at you through clenched teeth, 

“Suck.”

You grabbed his hand with both of yours, feeling your tits bouncing as he fucked you, holding his fingers in your mouth, and you began to suckle on them dutifully. You could smell and taste your scent, and it was making you feral. You let your tongue loll between his fingers, sucking hard on his sensitive tips, watching his face as his jaw fell slack. 

Then, he pulled them away from you and used them to rub against your clit, one finger on either side, making tight circles and teasing you until your legs began to shake. 

“Holy fuck,” he said, watching you fall apart, “Such a good girl for me, aren’t ya? Gonna come on me, baby?”

You nodded, plucking at your nipples, squeezing your breasts as they shook from his thrusting. 

“Good girl. Come on me. Let me feel it.”

You felt your body go rigid as the bright, flashing pleasure coiled its way into your belly, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep moan. Quick as a flash, John kissed you, letting you moan into his mouth instead of into the night air, quieting you as you exploded underneath him, shamelessly bucking against his hard length as you rode out your pleasure. 

He kept kissing you, sucking at your tongue and bottom lip, talking to you through your bliss, 

“That’s it. Just what I needed, pretty girl. Love this fuckin’ pussy.”

“I love you, John,” you said, suddenly overwhelmed with your emotions and the deep sensations he was giving you. 

It caught him off-guard, and he smiled from it, 

“I love you too, baby. You ready for me, hm?”

You nodded, whispering a yes into his neck. He looked at you with a pleading expression, 

“Tell me.”

“I need your come, John. Come in me. Fill me up, please. I want you to come in my pussy.  I want it running down my legs.”

“Oh, fuck!” He raised his voice just for a moment, but you didn’t care.

As you watched him tumble into his orgasm, shuddering between your legs, nothing would distract you from that gorgeous scene. His face twisted and then relaxed, exhausted from his efforts, a half-smile painted on his lips.

He looked down at you in surprise, breathing heavy and recovering. He slid himself out of you, leaving you with a terrible emptiness. You felt his cream drip from your body, and he wiped his cock on your thigh before he tucked himself back into his dress pants. 

John collapsed next to you in the truck bed, staring up at the stars for the first time, resting his head on your breast. 

You were wrecked, and you pet his hair, softly soothing yourself with him. 

He looked up at you, that playfulness returning to his eyes, 

“Runnin’ down your legs, hm?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes, 

“Yeah, so? You seemed to like the idea, mister.”

“I do,” he kissed your breast and took your nipple into his mouth, watching you squirm from being overstimulated, “In fact, I think it’s a good idea.”

“You’re not serious,” you gasped. 

“C’mon. No one’ll notice.”

He sat up, checked the surroundings to make sure the coast was clear and then helped you up. He lowered the tailgate and helped you stand. Your feet still ached in your shoes, and you had to catch yourself on his strong arm. He steadied you, making sure you were alright before he grabbed your hand and led you back inside. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this, John,” you felt your cheeks blush bright red. 

“Be brave, missus. I’ll make it worth your while later.”

His face suggested more of his dirty fun, and you nodded, crossing your fingers no one looked at you too closely. 

Luckily, no one had noticed your absence. John helped you into a booth and ordered two more glasses of champagne, sliding into the seat beside you. All night, through the slit of your gown, he rubbed your leg, getting little drops of his come and playing with it on your skin, working you up and teasing you in front of all of your friends, secretly smearing his gift into your thigh. 

All night, and during the drive home, you couldn’t keep his hands off of your legs. He kept playing with you, getting bolder and bolder by the minute. When you got into the house, he stripped you, leaving your gown abandoned on the kitchen floor, carrying you straight into the den and laying you on the couch, not even bothering to make it to the bedroom.

He had a burning look in his eye as he commanded you, taking off his clothes as he barked his orders, 

“Spread your legs, missus. Let me see you. Wider.”

You did as you were told, your mind reeling from his threatening tone, eager to submit to him again. 

“Mm. You are fuckin’ gorgeous covered in my come. It’s everywhere,” he stared at your pussy and your inner thighs with wonder, using his hands to feel the shining fluids coating your skin. 

Then, to your shock, he bent to lick you clean, sucking on your folds and lapping at your wet hole, wriggling his tongue deeper and deeper, trying to eat himself out of you. 

“John!” You gasped, “What are you — ungh, fuck!”

His fingers fucked you as he ate from you, swallowing what your body gave him, licking up his mess from your legs and lips like a hungry dog, ignoring your cries of protest. 

“You want me to stop, missus?”

You shook your head, petting his scalp and scratching your fingers through it.

“Aye,” he grinned, “Didn’t think so. Hope you’re ready for round two.”

If you enjoyed this story, please consider a reblog! Thank you!!

AO3 Link

[sexysilverstrider]

Playful Star | SGAO

   The stars were pretty tonight.

   Aoi adjusted her seat on the bench. While the area she was in was quite secluded, it wasn’t that barren. The amount of noise that she heard was plenty from afar, but it was still peaceful enough for her to have a peace of mind.

   “Aoi.”

   Ba-dump!

   Ah, there was also another reason.

   Head turned to the left; black eyes twinkled in glee at the presence of one boy. “That’s me,” she casually replied, voice lilted with a gleeful chirp.

   Ba-dump!

   Oh, he truly couldn’t be calm around her.

   Trembled mouth pursed to hide back a giddy laugh. “Here you go,” he calmly said, one hand handing out a water bottle. Once it was out of his grasp, Kieran took a seat next her.

   His eyes never left her.

   “Thank you.”

   He saw her smile. It was charming, Beautiful. Enticing even.

   The little distance they had were too far. Too far.

   One finger pushing the rim of her glasses, Aoi uncapped the bottled water. Facing the beautiful view of the hills and meadow in front of them, she took a gulp of water.

   Amber eyes darted to her throat. It bobbed lightly as water slid down her throat. Pupils dilated slightly—just the slightest—as he kept his gaze fixated on the beautiful sight. It was then that thoughts bubbled in his mind. A thought of what it was like to brush his fingers on the smooth skin of her neck. A thought of the faint scent of vanilla that might have come from her every time they were close. A thought of making a cute necklace so that he could place it around her neck.

   A thought of his mouth, parted and lightly panting, placed on her neck—

   “Kieran?”

   Pupils shrunk at the sound of her voice.

   “Ah, yes?” Quickly, Kieran recollected himself. His back straightened. Strands of black and violet hair draped down his face at the minor jolt he had given himself.

   Aoi handed him the half-empty bottle. “Do you want some?” With a small smile, she lightly shook the bottle. The water in it sloshed quietly, attracting the boy’s attention only for a mere second.

   She didn’t realize. Thank Arceus, she didn’t realize.

   His mouth remained agape. However, after a second blink, he swiftly pressed his lips shut and coughed meekly. “S-Sure…” Gloveless hand took the bottle. Their fingers brushed, and Kieran felt like scolding himself to feel his heart scraping its way out of his ribcage. Without a thought, he gulped the rest of the contents down.

   “So, what’s on your mind, Kieran?”

   A loud cough basically broke out by the sudden question.

   Surprise and guilt shook the girl. Immediately, Aoi rubbed his back. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you!” Tease him? Yes, constantly. Scare him? Not really.

   Cheeks flushed in embarrassment, Kieran softly tapped his chest. “It’s not you.” It’s me, damn it. “I just…” Ah, what reason would he give after showing such a shameful reaction? Wet lips pursed. Hand holding the bottle tightened. Kieran looked up at the beautiful night sky.

   Black eyes glistened behind mottled sunglasses.

   Aoi was a patient girl. Well, more patient than Nemona, that’s for sure. Anticipation always became her drive to do anything. Determination was a solid pillar that she sat atop on. She was often a playful person, good with words and easy with smiles. The many reasons for her fame in Naranja Academy weren’t just because of her battling prowess. Aoi had a natural charm about her that made her loved and respected by many. She had many traits about herself; some she already knew and some she was still realizing.

   And ever since she reunited with Kieran, Aoi started to learn another thing about her: Greedy.

   She looked at him, heart a flitter and eyes a flutter. Feeling a bit devilish, the girl scooted closer.

   Their hands touched.

   She felt mean if she were to giggle at his adorable grumble.

   “I—!” Finally, he looked at her, a cute frown accompanied by beet red cheeks. “It’s nothing, Aoi…” Decided that he had enough of embarrassing himself over his huge crush, the boy huffed.

   Fuck, he was too cute!

   “Come on.” Never one to give up, Aoi playfully nudged his shoulder with her own. “Tell me.” She knew that if she pressed further, he would eventually relent. A smile swirled into something impish, she nudged him again.

   Kieran knew what she was doing. This was not the first time.

   “Mmm mmm.” He shook his head. Despite his insistence, Kieran never moved away. Hell, his right hand sheepishly grasped her left hand, fingers traced and laced together until they’re intertwined.

   Her lower lip jutted out. “Tell me, Kieran.” She bumped his shoulder again. Her left fingers gave a little squeeze, and Aoi wanted to whimper to feel his fingers squeezing and brushing her own back.

   Amber met black. Even hidden behind sunglasses, Kieran gulped to see the dazzling sparkle of her eyes. “Nothing,” was all he said, head then turned to face the meadow before them.

   Like him, she never gave up that easily.

   “Tell meeeee,” she started whining. Unbecoming of Champion that struck terror and awe into the hearts of her opponents, Aoi gently bumped her forehead against his right shoulder. “Pretty please?” She looked up, eyes twinkling at the sight of the boy she loved so much.

   He didn’t budge.

   She was both impressed and annoyed.

   It was then that she decided to use her secret weapon.

   Without a word, she took off her sunglasses—one would wonder why the hell the girl was wearing sunglasses in the first place at night—and placed them on an empty spot on her right. She let her left fingers be remained in his grasp; he wasn’t planning on letting go anyways. Black eyes now clearer under the glistening gleam of the moon, Aoi gave a firm stare at Kieran.

   One second, he was quietly curious at her actions.

   The next, a scream almost did peep out to feel his shoulder being pulled and lips brushing the shell of his right ear.

   “Pretty please, sweetheart?”

   Oh, that was the last straw.

   Aoi should be proud at what she could do to him. She should be huffing in pride that she could break the boy—in a good way—with her actions and words. She should be standing at the highest peak in the Terrarium for being the only person to see Kieran in his most adorable state.

   Alas, that delight died in a ditch once she felt her body being pulled closer.

   “You ask for it.”

   Black eyes widened. Mouth parted to a silent gasp at the feel of a warm mouth on her neck.

   Chup…

   It was a cold night, yet her body felt warm very fast.

   Taking advantage of her shock and indulging completely in his desire, Kieran wrapped her waist with his free arm. Mouth gasping like a thirsty man, chup…he planted another kiss on her neck.

   She smelled intoxicating.

   Left hand slid upwards. Palm pressed firmly on her back. Eyes closed shut, Kieran nuzzled his nose on such soft skin. Her scent lit his heart ablaze. She must’ve had taken a shower a few hours, for she smelled fresh and warm. Lost in a haze of hunger, he continued pressing little pecks on her neck.

   Chu… One right below her left ear.

   Chu… One on a spot close to her vein.

   Chuuu… One on the line of her collarbone.

   She was soft. So soft.

   She smelled nice. So nice.

   Hot lips stayed on a spot on her neck, so close to where her throat bobbed frantically. He cupped a single spot, silent and still as a single thought raced through his mind.

   She was his. All his.

   “K-Kieran…”

   Amber eyes snapped open.

   Realization hitting him like a brick, Kieran immediately let her go. “I—sorry!” Hands were raised up in her air, palms spread as they levelled on either side of his head.

   Amidst the darkness that enveloped around them, he could clearly see such vivid crimson on her face.

   Aoi looked at him, eyes just as popping and mouth pressed tight. Hands flew to hot cheeks, thumbs brushing over hotter spots that Kieran had kissed. In all honesty, never would she have expected him to ambush her in such an attack. Yes, ever since they reunited and made up, Aoi could see that the boy had potential to be irrational and volatile.

   She knew that and yet, she still pressed his buttons.

   “Are you angry at me…?”

   Blown-out pupils looked at the darling Blueberry trainer she loved so much. He looked so guilty. So sad.

   Ah, she felt like doing it again.

   Hands dropped to her lap, Aoi coughed meekly. Trying to don a mask of dignity that failed fabulously, she fixed her gaze at him. “No,” she swiftly replied, wanting to remove the sense of guilt and sorrow that he solely did not deserve.

   She watched as he breathed a sigh of relief.

   A smile was bitten back. Poorly.

   “I mean, I did ask.” Braver of the two, Aoi sheepishly held his hands. Not once did he flinch at her touch, and this only bloomed the joy in her rapidly beating heart. “And I did get my answer.” Eyes still locked on his adorably red face. She brought his right palm to her pretty pink lips.

   Chu.

   His breathing hitched inside a suddenly dry throat.

   “Thank you for answering, sweetheart.”

   A low groan rumbled in his mouth to see the beautifully sly smile hidden behind his palm.

   Feeling both defeated and elated, Kieran once again pulled her closer. This time, the action was much gentler, much more obvious. This allowed Aoi to spread her arms wide open before happily wrapping them around his neck. His own arms, shaking still, hugged around her waist, around his favourite spot where his arms should be.

   “You’re impossible, honey…” His voice, soft and shy, lulled closely to her right ear. The sound of her laughter only made him tighten his hold. Breathing out a sigh—which then made her shiver slightly—Kieran rested his chin on her shoulder and slowly swayed their bodies left and right.

   Her head cocked slightly by their height, Aoi flashed the brightest smile that rivalled the sun. “And you love me for that juuust like how much I love you.”

   Ah, how her heart screamed in utmost glee to hear his soft, affectionate, “I know. And I really love you. Very much.”

   The stars were truly pretty tonight.

END

[starligtgalaxy]

chapter 12: A little blood therapy

A hand holds a cup, filled with a dark red liquid, watching it slosh around in it. Not having taken a single sip.

"Heeyyyy shǔǔǔǔǔǔǔǔ~" a voice mutters next to her.

She sighs "Hey, Wukong"

The mentioned monkey clings to her arm and looks up to her head with a drunk expression on his face "Did you always have those things?"

Pointing with a shakey hand towards her ears.

"Wukong, control yourself" a different voice chimes, coming from the other side of the table.

The one saying it was a monkey with dark fur. Drunk aswell, but not as much as his sworn brother.

"It's fine, Mihou. He isn't doing any harm, he's just being a bit clingy" she answers.

A bit wasn't the right term as by now the ginger monkey was basically full on hugging her, clinging to her as if she was a tree.

The eagle next them scoffs, being too drunk himself to do his usual teasing.

She feels her throat ache. She coughs in her hand, and looks to discover blood in it.

She sighs "I need to go, I won't be gone for long" she stands up, making the ginger monkey glide off her.

She calmly walks away, quickly out of her teammates' views. Most of them didn't bring any attention to it, since it was pretty normal for her.

But he did, he knew she was hiding something from them. Something big, but he never had the courage to go after her as she had told them many times to not follow her.

★・・・・・・★

(Y/n) grabs the order of the counter. She was about to walk out of the door, only to be met with a chest. A blue one specifically.

She steps back to meet a giant with an orange beard and Mohawk. A purple bead necklace around his neck and some white sweatpants.

(Y/n) cranes her neck to look at his face "Wow, you're...tall" she pauses when she realized what she said "ah, sorry. That was rude of me"

"It's fine, I get that a lot" the giant chuckles, patting the girl's messy Hair "So, pal, what are you doing here?"

"I'm just gonna deliver some orders, I work here" (Y/n) answers.

"Well, it's nice that Pigsy got some new help" his big smile falters a bit.

"Were you a friend of Mk?" (Y/n) asks, slightly tilting her head."Yeah...I am" (Y/n) frowns at his reponse.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(Y/n) sits on a couch holding a cup of tea, being surrounded by an army of cats.

"I haven't see this much cats in my life" "These are my therapy cats, my therapist recommended them to me" Sandy explains, holding a tea cup himself in his big hands. "They help against stress"

A brown cat with white feet climbs on the girl's lap, sitting down.

"If you don't mind me asking, how was Mk? Tang, Pigsy and Mei always avoid the subject" (Y/n) asked, patting the cat on her lap.

"I can't blame you for you curiousity" Sandy chuckles "Mk was a brave young man. He was quite trouble maker, but he had a heart of gold"

(Y/n) looks down at her cup of tea, looking at her reflection in the hot liquid. She turns her gaze back at the giant.

"He sounds like a good person, I would've love to meet him"

"I think he'd also love to know you"

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

I do Sandy always so dirty, he deserves better.

This is the last chapter before revenge of the spider queen aka a pretty important chapter.

It will be longer so it will be in multiple parts. And Redson will finally appear, He's the second person I do very dirty

[sketchguk]

Hi this is jungkook au anon and OMG I'M SO EMBARRASSED THAT SOUNDS EXACTLY LIKE YOUR FIC 😭 but I swear the one I was talking about is atleast a few years old , and it has like three parts ! What I talked about happens in the first part and in the second part she goes on a date with jungkook and tae keeps calling her and I'm pretty sure the name of the fic is cherry !!!! But you know what ..... Maybe I'm getting both your fic and that fic mixed up??? Like I'm sure the trope is the same though😭😭😭😭

I've sent my headcanon to you separately because the ask is too long!!! It's okay if you don't wanna post that . I get that you might not want such a long ask on your page!!! So you can read that and answer under this one!

My main head canon for this au actually comes wayyyyyy after their establishd. And it's based on Ethan and Harper from white lotus S2!!! I won't bore you incase you have seen it! But if not then lmk and I'll tell youuuu. It's SOOO JUICY !

omg no it's okay, don't be embarrassed !! that's hilarious how the plots are so similar 🤣 i tried to look up the fic, but nothing came up !! :-( I've never seen white lotus !! do you recommend it? :0 i love juicy drama

Sorry about that!!! It's honesty soo embarrassing 😭 if you still wanna hear about my headcanons ... I have small ones like when kook hangs out with her , it doesn't start as date like he just asks to hang out . And then they hang out over and over , and then kook fixes her necklace or something and kisses her! And he asks if he can take her on a date . But she's like .... Not really interested in anything serious so she says that and that she'd like to do casual stuff though. But he says no 😭

AHH jungkook doesn't wanna do casual because he wants the real thing. all or nothing 😭 he can't settle for a situationship when he wants so much more hhh. we stan a boy who's just so smitten 💛 mc needs to give him a chance please please please

After that they stay friends and mc keeps thinking about him and how nice he is .. Once she hangs out with her girlfriends and gets WASTED and she was making out with some guy lolll. ofcourse jungkook is around at the same party and when she's having even more drinks with her friends, he's like, okay that's enough for tonight and he takes her to her flat.

SHE'S MAKING OUT WITH ANOTHER GUY? RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM??? and he still offers to take care of her and bring her home safely klasjdkl. put me in a casket right NOW TT. i would literally never recover from something like that. jungkook is so much stronger than me . why do we love to torture our characters? LOL

Kook appears a bit upset And at this point mc is sloshed so she tries to like sit really close to him hugging hys arm . And she asks why he's acting like the grinch and he's pretty tipsy too so he's like " those guys kissing you smh. Like it probably doesn't even mean anything to them and that's so frustrating because it were me, it would mean everything to me lol" .

he is seriously so sweet........ how can she not want him 😭😭 i would instantly fold. i love that he's more upset with the guys and not with mc. that's how a gentleman should be :')

Obviously mc gets soooo soft and is like, Kiss me then . But kook reallyyyyyy wants to buy he says he can't because she's drunk! And tomorrow she'll go back to not caring and he will feel terrible. But she'll be like, no I don't care I want you to keep kissing me and be my bf!!! But jungkook is afraid she's saying that because she's drunk. So he says ok, If that's true then come find me in the morning and ask again? And she's like OK!!! I'll do it definitely! And Jung kook in his heart desperately hopes she will 😔 but she keeps puckering her lips dramatically and begs for just one kiss, and jungkook pecks her once and is like "happy??" But then immediately he kisses her again very briefly 😔 and he gets up quickly and leaves lol. But before closing the door he's like "see you tomorrow?" And it feels like there's so much hope in his eyes.

I'm squealing so HARD. kicking my feet, punching the air ❗❗ nobody deserves a happy ending more than jungkook. the way that he refuses to kiss her, but ends up relenting 🥲 they don't make men like him anymore. i love him dearly, i love him SO MUCH

The next day!!!! MC sees him and the way jungkkok looks at her makes me feel both terrible and soooo shy because he looks so nervous but also hopeful. And she starts with saying "Sorry about last night ...." And immediately kook thinks she's saying it was just a stupid drunk blabbering, so he's like "It's ok really I get it , we're good ahaha" but then mc is like NO!!!! I'm sorry about getting drunk and forcing you to take me home and for being annoying and asking for kisses! I do wanna date you!!" And that's how it happens 😭😭😭

RAHHHH . jungkook is so cute :-( we all deserve a man like him in our life hakldjakl. do you think jungkook ever gets jealous or insecure considering he initially liked mc more and was more serious about a relationship?? meanwhile she only wanted something casual? surely she shows more affection as their relationship develops, but maybe those feelings of insecurity creep up on him :'( especially because he's so devoted to her aha

if white lotus is anything like you described, i am SEATED. thank you for telling me your head canons omg <333 i'll remember this jungkook fondly <33

[internalsealpanic]

Sealing the Deal part 2

Summary:  Dick has a perfectly reasonable idea.

a/n: There will probably be more parts to this since you people gave me so many ideas but for now here is some soft smut. Did I finish this just in time for the end of mermay? Yes.

warning: Attempt at soft smut

Main Masterlist

Part 1

"Let's get married."

 It takes around a minute for you to even register the fact that Dick had even said anything at all and another to parse out the meaning behind his words. You look up from the piece you've been slaving over for hours while Dick dozed on your lap. 

 "Let's get married." He repeats earnestly. 

 You narrow your eyes at him. You... clearly missed at least 2 diatribes and 40% of this conversation. "Uh Dickie, my love, did I miss the part where you divorced me or did I sleep through it like I did when Wally was preaching about raw fish?" You set your tools down and pull his pelt more tightly around you, feeling oddly protective of it. 

 Seeing you wrapped up in his pelt never failed to make Dick's chest flutter; unfortunately, he had to focus on the matter at hand. "As I was saying, we're married but not in the human way. "

 "Ah- Yeah, I see that but.. that seems entirely unnecessary." 

 "There's no harm in it." Dick says, looking at you with big hopeful eyes. No matter whether it’s his liquid seal eyes or his bright baby blues, you’re still a sucker. 

 He is definitely up to something. Dick always uses that look when he really wants something and you can already feel yourself falling for it. Who thought giving this man the cutest face in the world was a good idea? Who?! You sigh. Spousal homicide is a bad idea, you tell yourself. 

 "You're so lucky you're terribly cute," you huff, "you're also lucky that there's a ferry coming tomorrow."

 You mentally calculate how much time the whole trip would take but you know all that arithmetic is useless when you hazard a look at your husband.  Dick beams, dimples appear at the corners of his mouth, and makes the happiest little noises.

  You lean over the railing, watching the sea and feeling the wind comb through your hair. A pair of arms wraps around you making you squeak. 

 Dick buries his face in your hair and he sweeps you into his arms. "How's the most beautiful creature in the world?"

 "Dunno Dick, how are you?" You smile.

 Dick sniffles. "You're not allowed to be this cute."

 "Hypocrite." You laugh wrapping your arms around him. 

 He nudges his face against yours. 

 "Are you liking your first boat ride?"

 "I could still swim faster." Dick hums.

 You roll your eyes. "Sadly for us, I can't."

 "It's ok," he says, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear," it just means you can't escape me on this boat."

 "Pfffft!"

 "You're saying that now but look who I have in my hold." He chuckles, lips brushing against your neck.

 "We're in public you dork!" You squeal.

 "And?"

 You sigh."You just like embarrassing me."

 "Yup. Just ask Jaso- What's that?!" Dick says pointing to a statue on the shore. It was tall and proud with hair cascading down like a waterfall with a visage as hard as the rock it's carved on. You narrow your eyes trying to recall what the local told your father when you were younger.

 "Oh, it's... It's a sea goddess I believe or maybe a selkie." You shrug at Dick who looks at it in awe. You supposed this is the first time he's seen a statue that big.

 "I thought you said the people on the mainland didn't believe in selkies?"

 "Er... ok, so there are mainlanders who are more inland where I come from and there's people near the sea. No, there are more divisions than that but- Ok, so the place where I came from the sea wasn't as important but here it is so they probably have more folk tales."

 "I guess that makes sense," Dick says burying his face in your hair. "Did you have any folk tales?"

 "Some but it was mostly cautionary about maidens being stolen away."

 "Guess you didn't listen to them, huh?" he says, "did they say anything about stealing hearts?" Dick winks one of those winks that only he could make cute. 

 You huff into your scarf.  "More about eating them, I think."

 "I can do that if you want." He smirks cheekily.

You pat his cheek, trying to be as irritatingly condescending as possible.  "You're still not scary."

 Dick takes your hand in his and brings it closer to his lips. He pretends to bite at your fingers, his sharp canines dragging along the skin and nipping at the joints.  "It’s because I love you so much."

 Dick alternates between gawking at perfectly common sights like large cargo ships and flocks of sheep on the cliff and teasing the life out of you for the rest of the ferry ride. 

 You are the tiniest bit mortified that several passengers have seen your husband drag his teeth over your skin and toss you in the air for the fun of it. Dick was horrible at keeping a low profile. Not that acting reserved would have mattered anyway given how everyone's eyes were always drawn to him. 

 You can't blame them, his laughter is infectious and his smile was enough to make the gloomy morning look like a bright summer afternoon.  You really really don't blame them for gawking but you just wish they wouldn't.

Not even fifteen minutes onshore and you're reminded why you only ever went into town with your father. Being meek by nature, you're often the target for unruly sailors. It never got too bad, not enough for you to call the cops at least. You would be lying if you wish it wasn't such a common occurrence to have some random guy shove his hand down your back pocket and squeezes your ass. 

 You jump, nearly dropping the little map of shops your father had drawn for you a while ago. A man passes behind you snickering quietly and yeah, knocking his teeth in would be amazing.

 "Hey buddy, do you mind apologizing?" Dick asks, his voice dangerously pleasant. 

 There's a gnawing sense of foreboding forming in your stomach. It squirms in your gut until you grab Dick's sleeve. "Dick," you hiss, "it's not worth it."

 You'd looked at the man and sadly, it really wasn't worth getting Dick's face punched in on his first visit to the mainland. You don't think anything worth getting Dick hurt.

 The men turn back to your and the dread in your stomach solidifies. Even your dad was never dumb enough to piss off sailors especially ones built like I train would be dented when hitting them. 

 "I don't see the problem, pretty boy," the man spits like he'd said the word fungus, "The lass doesn't have a problem with it, do you?" He leers at you. It makes your skin crawl.  He steps closer, invading your space, and places a hand on your shoulder. "This lassy here and I go waaaay back." He says, sliding his hand down your arm. You have absolutely no doubt that this man is sloshed because you have never seen him before in your life. You are pretty plain, so that makes sense but yeah, this is the first time you've seen his mug.

 "A lass like you shouldn't be dressing like that if you know what's good for you."You open your mouth to protest but only manage to tighten your grip on Dick's sleeve.

 There's a split second between Dick flickering his eyes to you and the satisfying sound of a fist making contact with a jaw. The man falls to the ground narrowly avoiding smashing his head into the cobblestones.

 "Get up and apologize to her." Dick growls, teeth bared.  He pushes forward. You're about as stunned as the man on the ground. Dick's poised for a fight and you have no doubt he'll have no problem getting into a row. You need to stop Dick from doing anything stupid. You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing your eyes shut.  You bury your face into his coat.  You want to tell him that it's fine, that you're used to things like this, that you don't want him to get hurt. This whole thing isn't worth him getting hurt. You're not worth him getting hurt.  But the only thing you can manage is a weak "It's not worth it."

 Dick squeezes your hand. You're trembling and Dick feels awful for scaring you but he doesn't stop glaring at the man. He guesses he's made his point loud and clear. He softens a fraction, maneuvering you to his side and wrapping an arm around you. There's still a snarl caught in the back of his throat but contrary to popular belief, Dick isn't hot-headed enough to ignore you. All he wants to do now is get you to safety. 

 You squeeze him with your arms, your face still scrunched as if bracing for impact. "Let's go shopping for those rings, yeah?"

 Dick sighs with an indulgent smile. "Ok, honey."  He kisses the crown of your head. "I love you, I’m sorry."

 "Don’t be sorry," you say, snuggling tighter into him. "You know I only want you and--” That wasn’t even the point. You are really bad at this. “--and you really should be more careful. What if you got hurt?"

 "Did you miss that killer right hook? He sure didn't."

 A small smile shapes your lips. "Moron."

 "Still love me though." He says, bringing your knuckle to his lips.

 You shake your head. "It's unfortunate really."

 "You know the more time I spend here the less I believe the fact that you didn't know what selkies were," Dick says holding up another seal necklace.

 You look at him, wince at the bruise blooming on his knuckle but continue. "My dad and I went into town twice a year and they were only ever day trips." You say, setting down a cheap shot glass with a blubbering seal. It wasn't strictly a lie. It was more of a guesstimate. You look away from him and mumble a "I thought they were called Setties."

 Dick snorts loudly and you have a heart attack thinking he reverted back to his seal form. "Setties?" He snorts again and you think he's gonna suck in all the dust from the store. 

 "Yes, Setties." You repeat grumpily, "I was 7. Cut me some slack!"

 "When have I ever cut you some slack?"

 "Never."

 "Mhm, exactly."

 "Why do I love you again?" 

 "Because I'm the cutest person, you know?" 

 "I dunno, Dickie." You drawl, picking up a couple of little seal stuffed toys. They were cute with their round faces and distended bodies. Their black eyes didn't quite do justice to your favorite trouble maker but they're close enough in huggableness."These little guys could give you a run for your money."

 Dick makes an affronted squawk. You hold them to Dick's face for inspection and ask: "Should we buy the black one or the white one?" Truly, a matter of life and death. 

 Dick scrunches his face in thought. "The black one obviously."

 "But the white one looks cute too." You whine. 

 Dick gives you a grumpy pout. You ignore him.  "Why don’t we get both?"

 Dick crosses his arms. "Why-"

 "Yanno... A pair like us..." You say, pulling them closer to your chest and looking up at him hopefully. 

 Dick looks at you wearily. "How could I argue against such a solid argument?"  Dick says, tousling your already windswept locks.

 "What do you think I’d look like as a seal?" You ask absently as you exit the store. You'd managed to drive the price down with a little haggling and a bit of distraction from Dick.

 "Beautiful."

 You grin at him.  "Again buttering me up won't make me buy you more sweets."

 "I can think of other things to eat." Dick says, his pink tongue darting over his lips as he looks at you. 

 You swallow, mouth feeling dry. Dick is horrible to you today.

The old antique shop was dustier than you remembered. Part of you suspects that the particles sprinkled on all the shelves is in fact just the old owner's cremated remains but you don't really wanna find out if it's true.

 You comb through the shelves, feeling like a pirate in search of treasure. The expensive rings with their big rind stones were stowed away on a shelf behind the shopkeeper but everyone one knows that if you want the good stuff you have to search for it yourself. 

 Dick seems to be happy looking through all the strange knickknacks, so you carry on. 

 You nearly squeal with glee when you find a ring. It was a band of silver carved into the shape of a seal curling in on itself as it slumbers. You smile holding it close to your chest.  "Give me your finger." 

 "That... is a very strange way to put it."

 "Just give me your hand." You say holding out your own.  Dick, still incredulous, puts his hand in yours. You bite back a smile as you put the ring on his ring finger. Your lips stretch even as you dig your teeth in. It was a good fit. You're embarrassed to say you were bouncing on your heel with excitement.The silver looks lovely against his tanned skin. 

 Dick inspects it.  "And you said subtlety wasn't my element."

 "It really isn't," you say, smiling down at his hand. "But I never did say it was mine either." You could easily find another ring if he doesn't like it but you're quietly hoping he does. You try not to watch his face, not read too deeply into his expressions. 

 "I like it. Let's try to find a matching one."

Much to your amusement, you did find something but it's.... You snort as you put it on. 

 "It kind of matches." Dick says wearily. 

 "It's a fish." You laugh.

 "Um... it's a pretty silver fish."

 "Absolutely ravishing, huh?"

 "Exactly like my wife." Dick says, nipping at your ear. 

 Your ear burns and you cover it hastily.  

 "Let's just go pay for them." You say, shoving at him lightly.

 "So you do like it?" He asks, peaking through your fingers. 

 "Yes, you dork. Now, stop being cute." You say, shoving him again. 

 "Never." He chuckles.

"Is this the statue from the harbor?" Dick asks, poking at the little replica on the shopkeep's counter. 

 "Aye lad, the natives worshiped the sea before we came along. Kooky fellows but they knew a thing or two about the sea. They even talked about the selkie. Those blood-thirsty women folk of the sea. "

 Dick scrunches his nose. You press the heel of your palm to your lips holding back a laugh.

 "Well, I’ve heard some different of stories." Dick says, leaning into the counter, his eyes shining mischievously. 

 The old shopkeep leans in, looking around. "Like what?"

 Dick leans in a bit more, his voice hushed and conspiratorial.  "I hear they try to trap fair maidens into marriage to bear children for them."

 Dick winks unabashedly. You flush. "What?!"

 "C'mon lad," the shopkeeper snorted like a walrus, "we all know that all selkies are women folk."

 "That’s the thing," Dick says, resting his hands on his intertwined fingers. He grins. "I’ve been out at sea a while, my whole family has aaaaand," he drawls in his other voice. The shopkeep looks entranced.  "We've heard of different tales." 

 "Do tell."

 "My family have heard tales of male selkies, those who seek women to carry on the selkie way." Dick pushes off the counter, spinning around on his heel theatrically. "We heard of old lore when they used to kidnap unsuspecting women by the sea shore." You vaguely recall this version but it seemed like ages ago.  "But now," he says, stepping closer to you. "Now, they are much more persuasive." Dick winks at you and you resist the urge to elbow him.

 "I also heard they're quite persistent." You say, leaning against him. 

 "Quite." Dick says a little too fondly. 

 "Hnnn, never heard that one." The shopkeep says tilting his head. "Do you have anymore?"

 "Oh, I have a ton of seafaring stories if you'd like. I’ve heard stories about the Cthulhu."

 "Cthulhu?"

 "The great horror of the deep."

 "The only horror here is the lack of treasure chests." The shopkeep huffs. You would be inclined to agree if Tim and Damian weren't so good at finding them.

 "Oh this is no tall-tale my friend," Dick says, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders, "we heard that he awakes once every 10 years to roam the deep seas. Why do you think boats go missing with no trace?"

 Monsoons, you think.

 "Like that submarine last summer!" 

 Dick nods sagely "Exactly."

 You want to slap your palm against your forehead. There is no way he can believe that hokey, right? ... You are literally married to a selkie. Do you really have any room for skepticism? You sigh. You suppose not. 

"The sea is a mysterious maiden just like those sires. A tricky bunch, slippery and smart not like mermaids."

 "Have you ever heard one?!" The shopkeep nearly folds over the counter.

 "Once when I’d been at sea for 4 months, I heard the most beautiful song in my life, kind of like a mirage but it was a misty night at sea."

 The shopkeeper gasps. 

 You blink. This is news to you.

 "Luckily, my father pulled me from the towboat before I set off towards it."  You try to imagine it and somehow it's funnier than the idea of Dick being bloodthirsty.

 Dick regails Bruce's spat with a sea witch and Alfred's horrifying tale with a kraken. Even you were enthralled by all his tales. Having the shopkeep thoroughly wrapped around his finger. He leans in close again. "Sorry, I got so lost. How much were these rings again?"

 The man blinks as if resurfacing from a trance. "A sea-loving man like you? You can keep it for five coffers."

 You gape at him, eyes blown wide.  That’s less than what you pay for bread. 

 The man turns to you. "Lass, you better keep an eye on him. This one belongs to the sea."

 He's... not wrong. 

 "You really are too kind," Dick says handing the money over. 

 "Anytime lad. Feel free to come back with more of your stories!" He calls out as you two walk out the door.

“Since when were you a sailor?” You ask, nudging your shoulder against his.

 “Since Jay told me stories.” He answers, nudging back. 

 “So they were all made up?” You ask, shaking his arm.

 Dick hums noncommittally.

  You frown at him. “C’mon fess up, pup.” 

 “Not *all* of them. I just spiced up the truth, that’s all.”

 “The sirens?”

Dick freezes. 

“Wait, are sirens real?” You gape, pounding your hand on his chest. 

 “Well, kinda.”

 “Kinda?!”

 Dick walks ahead of you trying to avoid your question. He does the mature thing and plugs his ears with his fingers. You continue to pester him all the way down the street. 

 The scent from the bakery wafted in the air calling to both of you as you two continue to bicker. Your stomachs cry out in a chorus. You look at your watch. You knew you'd forgotten something. 

 "I'll get us something to eat," Dick says, clearly staring at the cupcakes. Getting cupcakes wouldn't hurt. It would be better than getting an actual wedding cake. 

 You shake your head. "I might sit for a bit." You say handing him your purse and wrenching the bags from his grip. He huffs but doesn't complain. 

 You park yourself on a bench just outside the bakery. Going to town is just as exhausting as you remember it being. You lull your head back, looking to the sky. What are the odds that it's safe to just doze off here on the bench? Probably pretty low.

 Dick watches you from a window, snickering. You were so cute when you're nodding off.  He should probably ask if they sell coffee too because you look like you're going to need the entire pot.

 He lets a woman go in front of him because Alfred taught him manners and not because he was delighted to see you nearly fold into your shopping bags. You startle and yelp then straighten up. Great seas, you're so cute.

 "Hey handsome, can I get a name?"

 Dick turns to the woman with an amicable smile. "Oh, the name's Dick."

"I'm ..." Dick is barely paying attention when he sees you take out one of the rings you'd bought with a stupidly happy smile on your face as you try it on. You look up at your hand and Dick can't help the twitch of his mouth. 

 You wave to him, feeling his eyes on you. He waves back with a thousand-watt smile. 

 There's a hand sprawled on his chest. "I've never seen you here before." The woman purrs. Dick steps back, feeling a bit uncomfortable. 

 "I'm from out of town-"

 "That explains it." She says, batting her eyes. 

 Dick's not too concerned, not when you've just disappeared from his sight. Dick's about to run outside when he feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist. 

 "My husband and I are just here for a day trip to run some errands." You huff glaring at the woman.

 Dick wraps an arm around you, chuckling at the priceless expression on your face. 

 "Dickie, did you want to introduce me?" You ask sweetly.

 "Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name." Dick says, feeling genuinely bad because he really wasn't paying attention.  In his defense, you were distracting him. 

 "I'm Mia."

 "I'm (Y/n)." You say trying not to puff your cheeks. You clearly just want the woman to go away.

 Dick wants to pinch you for being so cute. The disgustingly sweet aura you two radiate was enough to make the woman go away. Much to your relief and Dick's amusement.  Dick lets himself sink into your embrace.

 Dick pinches your cheek as you get the bread from the counter. You swat his hand away with a loaf of slightly stale bread you were gonna rework later. "What?!"

 "Nothing, you're just so damn cute, honey." Dick laughs, pinching your cheek again.

 "Says the dork who punched someone." You say, pecking him on the lips. 

 Dick rolls his eyes. "He totally deserved it." 

 "Sure, sure."

 Ok, he did.

 Dick pecks your lips. "Let's go find you a bouquet and a minister so you can keep that ring on."

 You flush not noticing that you haven't taken the ring off. Dick looks down at you like he's the luckiest man in the world.

“Will it still make you happy?” Dick asks, fidgeting in front of the courthouse. 

 You raise a brow at him prompting him to elaborate. 

 “Getting married without a proper ceremony, I mean.”

 Ah. You clutch the bouquet of cornflowers to your chest, twining your finger with his. “As long as I have you it’ll be perfect.”

 Dick sniffles. “Stop saying things like that.”

 “You started~”

 Dick presses his forehead against your, letting out a low trill. “I can’t wait to sign on the paper and make you my wife. Officially.”

 You nudge your nose against his. “I can’t wait either.”

The minister looks between the two of you suspiciously, probably looking for signs of which one of you suggested eloping. “You may now say your vows.” 

 Dick takes out a crumpled sheet of paper with yellowing edges. In a cool crisp voice, he begins to speak:

 “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

 The wind rises in your chest, tears welling up in your eyes. You try to keep yourself together.

 “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hope, always perseveres.”

 You cup your hand over your mouth, your father’s words coming to life through Dick’s voice.  

 “Love never fails.”

 Dick reaches out to you, wiping the tears running down your face. You don’t know if Dick knows how much that meant to you but you’re endlessly thankful. 

 You feel flush. You’re not really sure you could follow that up. God, you really should have prepared more. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to turn tail and run. 

 Set me as a seal upon your heart,

as a seal upon your arm;

for love is strong as death,

passion fierce as the grave.

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

a raging flame.

Many waters cannot quench love,

neither can floods drown it.

If one offered for love

all the wealth of one’s house,

it would be utterly scorned.

 Dick looks at you, fondness curving his lips. You smile back at him sheepishly. 

The minister clears his throat. “You may now kiss the bride.”

 Dick picks you up and spins you around then brings you close to kiss you. You giggle at his theatrics. In the corner of your vision, you could see the minister just looking extremely tired. 

 “Give me the bouquet.”

 You don’t mainly because you have a policy of making people explain things before you do anything and also because you were hoping to throw the bouquet yourself. 

 Dick tilts his head. “Uh, give me two.” He pauses. “Please?” “Will you promise me this won’t curse anyone?”

 “Just because my dad’s girlfriend is a sea witch does not mean I curse people.”

 “And you feel absolutely no need to unpack that, huh?”

 “Sweetie, pleeeeeease.” He gives you the big eyes and you silently wonder how selkie divorce works. 

 You hand him two flowers. He pinches off the stems and says: “Hold out your hands.”

 “Can I at least know what kind of ungodly ritual my husband is suckering me into?” You huff as he puts one of the cornflowers in your palms. 

 “It’s more superstition really. My mom used to say that if you tell a flower about your love for someone and let the sea carry it away, then your love will be able to weather storms.”

 You want to tell him that based on the stories the sea had nothing to do with the ferocity of his parent’s love  but when you look back into the glitter of nostalgia in his eyes you know that there is nothing for it. 

 You hold the cornflower close, whispering promises to it, an endless litany of devotions that you hope only the sea will hear. Dick beside you does much the same with regular pauses and additions to his. When you’re both finished, you let the flowers fall harmlessly into the water and watch them, despite all odds, drift together in the ocean.  

  Dick nuzzles you into the floor. You lay flat on his pelt as Dick hovers over you. He kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. You hum and slide your hands up his back and part your lips to give him access. Dick pulls away, dragging his lips down your face. His teeth graze on the skin of your neck. Feeling ticklish, you giggle. He smiles pressing another wet kiss to your skin before pulling back. You whine already missing the close contact. 

 "I think we forgot something." Dick says, gently grasping your wrist and kissing it. 

 You furrow your brow. You play with his hair as you try to think. "Pretty sure we did everything," you mumble. You shiver when you feel Dick's teeth catch on your pulse, his luminescent eyes staring at you intently. "I'm telling you, sweetheart, you're forgetting something."

 You groan. It would be easier to think if Dick's lips weren't on your skin. "We've gotten the rings, thrown the rice, and hit Wally in the head with the bouquet..." You bite back a squeak when Dick sucks a hickey onto your wrist. 

 "Getting warmer, darling."

 You flush. You try to control your breathing but your skin feels so hot against his. You and Dick have met with a minister and he's also carried you over the threshold... All that's left is...

 You can feel Dick's hand slide up your shirt, his hand warm against your chilly skin. "Consummation." You whisper, swallowing thickly. 

 Dick's eyes are bright and mischievous in the firelight.  "Bingo." He lets go of your wrist and lowers himself to press a hungry kiss on your lips; it was all tongue and teeth as his hips move against yours. He pinches your nipples between his fingers drawing out a gasp from you. Dick takes this chance to deepen the kiss. He groans into the kiss when you tug at his hair.You moan against him, wrapping your legs around his waist trying to pull him closer.  Your movements are clumsy, speaking to your inexperience. Dick is going to take his time with you. 

 Dick kisses your nose and pulls away. He can’t resist. Dick drags the shirt slowly over his body. He hears your breath hitch and a vain sort of pride fuels Dick’s ego. It was one thing for other people to tell him he was pretty. It was an entirely different thing to have you look at him with so much awe and reverence. That look in your eyes always makes his skin prickle with delight. 

 You trace the shape of his muscles with your fingers, your mouth parted slightly as you drink in the sight of him. Dick is no less awe-inspiring than the first time you saw him. You marvel over the scars crisscrossing his chest and arms. None of the imperfections on his skin ever managed to dull his beauty. Unfairly, they only enhanced it and took your breath away every time you noticed a new detail about him. Your hand drifts down to the V of his abs; the tough makes him tremble as it dips closer to the hem of his pants. Dick takes in a sharp breath before kissing you again. It was partly because he could never get enough of your lips and partially to get your attention.  

 “Honey, I want to see you too.” He whispers into your lips. 

 Your body locks up at his words and a heat spreads across your chest, your neck, and up to your ears. Your mouth feels so dry all of a sudden and your feet turn into blocks of ice. What if Dick finds you repulsive? What if he sees you naked and he can’t stand what he sees? Will he leave or will he smile through it all the while gritting his teeth through it? You’re not pretty, not the way Dick is and you certainly can’t measure up to the other Selkies you’ve met. How the flying fuck were you supposed to compte with Babs or Kori? You seriously consider running away and hiding in your room until you feel Dick’s teeth graze against the column of your neck. 

 “Please.” He breathes and his voice is so thick with want that it’s enough for you to forget the desire to melt into the baseboards even for just a moment. You don’t want him to be disappointed, to know that he’s traded down. You’re scared. You don’t want to be but you’re fucking terrified.

 “It’s ok,” he whispers. “I know you’re nervous.” He kisses your forehead. Dick knows he needs to be patient. He’s waited to feel all of you for this long. He’s willing just to wait a bit more if it means you’re comfortable. 

 You close your eyes, grabbing the hem of your shirt. Dick kisses your eyelid. He bites his lip, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into your flesh. It’s so supple and hot against his. Instead, he busies himself by helping you out of your bra but his fingers are clumsy with his brain too full of your skin. You giggle as you both fumble for the clasps. 

     Dick wastes no time peppering your chest with kisses once you’re completely bare. “So pretty.” Dick purrs against your chest. He nuzzles into the valley of your breasts as he feels your breaths even out. Sliding his hands up and down your sides reverently, he makes certain that you know just how beautiful you are with every bite, every kiss, and every touch.

 His attention goes to your breasts. You arch your back as Dick begins rolling your nipples between his teeth. He savors all the little gasps and mewls you make. "Dick." You sigh out his name happily. Dick groans, hips gyrating against yours. "Dick." You repeat, tugging at his hair. You rock your hips in time with his.

 Your voice is driving him insane. The way his name rolls off your tongue like silk fries his nerves. All he wants to do is make you scream it over and over while he takes care of you and lets you know just how good you feel against him. 

 "That's it baby, let me make you feel good."Dick says, giving your nipple one last lick before taking care of the other. "I wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart."

 The husky quality of his voice makes you shiver. Your fingers travel down his back, fingernails lightly scraping against his skin. He trembles against your as you slide your hand down his chest and down his pants. Your fingertips brush against the head of his member. You wrap your hand around his cock, teasing his head with your thumb. Your thumb is wet with his precum as Dick pants softly into your skin. Dick can't help but move against your hand.

 "Sweetheart," he grunts, " I can't... I-"

 Dick grasps your wrist, pressing a kiss to it before pulling it over your head. You whine. Dick's breaths tickle your ear as he tries to steady them. He kisses your cheek and nibbles on your ear. Dick grabs your other arm and pins it down next to the other, pinning both hands with one hand.  You squirm underneath him, trying to break his hold.

 "Let me take care of you." He says, trying to level his voice but you're making it so hard. 

 You drag your leg up his calf. Dick brushes his lips down your neck, sucking a hickey into every available surface of your skin on the way down your hips and murmuring ‘I love you’ as he does.  

 "Dick, please." You moan.

 "Sweetheart," Dick says, biting the soft flesh of your hip.

 You wriggle in his grip causing the hand wound around them to tighten. Dick watches you intently as he bites another hickey into the flesh or your hip. You gasp out his name and Dick can feel his cock twitch. He needs more. 

 “Shhhh, I know, Honey. Shhhhhh.” Dick says, kissing along the hem of your pants before his teeth catch on the fabric. Dick tugs the button free and pulls the zipper down with his teeth. You think your heart stops.  Every little thing he does drives you up the wall.  He hooks his fingers to the top of your pants and pulls them down slowly. You can feel the fabric drag against your skin as Dick presses I love yous up your leg. 

 Dick bites lightly at your ankle as he tosses your pants over his shoulder. Dick licks his lips, they’re plush and glossy from the saliva. He’s looking at you with so much love and adoration that you feel yourself melt. You’re suddenly painfully aware of your nakedness. You snap your legs shut shyly, withdrawing your ankle from his hold.  You curl in on yourself, muttering an apology.

 He shakes his head, chuckling softly. Dick pushes the hair out of your face. He presses his forehead against yours, kissing you softly and running his hands up and down your sides. Your legs slowly open to let his body closer to yours. You just want to feel his skin against yours. 

 "I love how your body reacts to me, honey." Dick winks. 

 You wrap your arms around him, your muscles relaxing a fraction. He can feel the ring on your finger dig into the back of his neck. You are his and he is yours. Dick trills at the thought. You laugh, the vibrations from his lips tickling you. 

 "I love you. You know that, don't you?" Dick asks, nibbling your lip.

 "The whole world knows," you snort, "especially after that fiasco at the town square."

 "I had to protect my wifey's honor." He says with a cheeky smile that takes over his face.

 "Somehow, I feel like knocking his teeth in was a bit much." You say, pulling him into another kiss because... well, your husband is awfully adorable even if he is a disaster.

 "Only seems fair," he says, his hand travelling down your body, kissing your clavicle, "he was being rude to my wife." Dick's fingers dip between your soaking folds. You were dripping just for him. Dick would be lying if he said that didn't inflate his ego. With his fingers curled inside you as he drags them in and out, you arch into him. You thread your finger through his hair and pull. 

 "Dickie, I want you," you whisper, rubbing your knee against his crotch. "I want you so much."

 Dick ruts against your leg, breath ragged and desperate. Dick's body is so sensitive to your touch; it's ridiculous.

 "I want you too." He manages barely above a whisper. 

 "Then fuck me, " you look away from his, biting your lip, "please?"

 "Honey," he groans. God, why did you have to say it like that? "You're going to make me cum." 

 "Isn't that the point?" You ask, your nails dragging on his back as you try and fuck yourself on his fingers. 

 What did Dick do to deserve you?

 "It is," he says, taking his hand out of your folds. "But not before I can make you cum first." He licks his fingers in front of you never breaking eye contact as he does. 

 You cover your face and squeak because damn it Dick you can't just- Who does that?!

 Dick hastily shimmies out of his pants, his cock springing free. You hear a pap as his cock slap against the toned muscles of his stomach. You squeak, peaking through your fingers, the slap ringing sinfully in your mind. Dick lets out an amused breath as he hovers over you. Stroking his length, he smears the precum along your inner thigh, whispering how much you turn him on and how he can't get enough of you. 

 "Sweetheart, I want you to look at me while I fuck you." He grunts and the air in your lungs evaporate. You think you'll follow suit in a few seconds. "Sweetheart, don't make me beg you."He says into your neck.

 Dick, you're not helping, you think to yourself but the saccharine way he always says your pet names has you giving into the request. Dick is smiling down at you and your heart melts. He kisses you deeply. You wrap your limbs around him, your heels digging into the small of his back and your fingers tangled in his locks as he slowly enters you. 

 He moans into your lips and you moan into his. There's a burning stretch inside you that has you begging for more. He bottoms out and your walls flutter around his cock trying to accommodate his girth.  A shiver travels up his spine feeling your velvet walls trying to milk his cock. Dick pulls away from the kiss to whisper: "I love you." 

 "I love you too, hubby. Please move."

 "Aye aye, wifey." He says slowly, pulling his length out. You can feel the long drag of his cock against your walls. You mewl for a lack of anything intelligent to say.

 The sound is enough to egg him on. He pushes in and out of you in long strokes, enjoying how your body rocks against his chasing your own pleasure. You pepper kisses to his chest and leave your own marks. Dick would be embarrassed by the lewd noises he makes as you do so but he's too caught up in you to really care. He doesn't even care if the whole world can hear him right now, all he cares about is that you're his and that you're loving this as much as he is. 

 "Baby, you feel so good. Your pussy was made for me. Ah!" Dick says, his hips stuttering when he feels you clench at those words. He kisses your shoulder. He loves the way his name falls from your lips as if it's the only thing you know how to say. "That's it baby. You're so pretty moaning and gasping and begging for my cock."

 All Dick can focus on is the sound of your skin slapping against his. You kiss up his neck, nibbling at his Adam's apple as he swallows. "Dickie, I want more."

  Dick's mind comes crashing to a halt. 

 "Dick, please. I want to feel you more. Please, go faster." You say, voice husky with want. It makes Dick feel like his body has turned to gelatin. 

 He kisses your forehead, a blush spreading across his skin. "Sweetheart, I can't."

 "Please Dick." You breathe, pouting at him. 

 Fuck, you can't look this cute while begging him to fuck you... twice. That's just not fair. 

 "Sweetheart, if I go any faster, I'm going to cum." The embarrassment is hard to hide.

 You drag your nails across his back and lick a stripe up his neck." Dick, I want you to fill me up. Dick, please, I'm so close." You beg, teeth catching on his collarbone, looking at him with watery eyes. 

 Dick is a sucker and he can never say no to a pretty face. He kisses one of your eyelids before slamming his hips into yours. His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts in and out with wild abandon. He thrusts deeper at an angle that was sure to hit your g spot every time. 

 You sing his name sweetly as you pull him closer. Your nipples rub against his chest as you bounce on his cock. Your walls constrict around him making it harder to pull out every time. All he wants to do is to stay inside you and revel in your warmth but he wants to bring you over the edge and fuck you stupid. He rolls your clit between his fingers as you whimper into his neck. 

 You both cum crying each other's name. Dick kisses you as he fucks you through your orgasm, painting your walls with his hot seed. 

 Dick rests his weight on top of you as he pulls out with some of his seed painting your inner thigh. "I love you." He pants. 

 "I love you too, you heavy lug." You grouse, trying to push him off of you.

 Dick has mercy on you and rolls you two over with you resting on top of him, perfect for cuddling you.

 Dick whispers "I love you" and other praises every time he opens his mouth and you return the sentiment by kissing a different part of his face.

 After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, Dick flushes seeing just how many hickeys he's left you and he flushes even harder seeing his own chest marked up. 

 "Sorry about that," He says kissing one of the marks. "I just can't help myself-" Kiss "-You look so pretty covered in love bites-" Kiss "-Sweetheart, you gotta stop sounding cute. I'll get hard again- Fuck." 

 Your hand wraps around his shaft, fingers brushing against his skin experimentally. "But I want you." You say bluntly. 

 Dick is going to combust. "I want you to. I've wanted you like this for so long."

 You stop. Your thumb brushes against the tip of his already leaking cock.  Your lips curl into a smile. "Is that why you were so adamant on getting married?" You snicker, booping his nose with yours. 

 "No, yes, maybe... partially." He stammers out. 

 You snort. "You know that wasn't necessary for us to..." The flush creeps back on your lips. You somehow have the audacity to look shy while still stroking his shaft. Dick is going to burst. 

 "I didn't want you to miss out on it," Dick says steadying his breath, feeling himself get harder as he talks or attempts to, "I wanted you to experience it since you told me you dreamt about it as a kid."

 You stop and Dick bucks to urge you to keep going.

 "You remembered that?" You ask, the expression on your face is complicated. 

 Dick sits up, brushing a finger against your cheek. "Of course, I did."

 "Dork." You sniffle, kissing his cheek. 

 "Only for you," He laughs but it's cut off by the movement of your hand. "Sweetheart, are you trying to kill me?" He gasps, biting into his knuckle. 

 "I'm only thanking you for being so sweet." You tease, spreading your mixed juices all over his cock. "and I just love my hubby that's all."

 ____________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading!!!!!!

Tag list:  @batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be​ @jadedhillon

[ivybucky]

dog tags and photographs - s.r. x fem!reader

Request from @moonstuffsteve : OK OK BUT CAN I REQUEST A STEVE FIC WHERE READER IS LIKE WASHING HIS UNIFORM AND FINDS A PICTURE OF HER IN THE SUIT AND GETS ALL HAPPY AND LIKE STEALS HIS DOGTAGS AND STEVE THINKS ITS THE CUTEST THING EVER THANK YOU

a/n: this was adorable and just so domestic so thank you Al! I’ve fallen into a nice little writing routine recently and ive been cranking these requests out like they’re NOTHING. as always, thanks for supporting my writing and fics i put out- i really want this blog to turn into something great, but i need to work on it a little bit more. 

Add Yourself to the Taglist

Masterlist 

Join the Discord

author: abby<3

words: 1385

cw: mention of stress, rough mission, domesticity, worry

Y/N smiled to herself as she listened to her boyfriend’s snores echoing through the apartment, something he swore he didn’t do. She had half a mind to record it, but the win wasn’t worth the fight.

She picked his uniform off the ground of the bedroom, shaking off whatever dust she could. His undershirt was thrown across the room next to the bed. She gathered it in her arms before looking towards his sleeping face. His hair had stuck to his forehead, sweat and dirt acting as an adhesive. Her nails picked at it, brushing it away from his face, before laying a sweet kiss to his forehead where his brows were drawn up with whatever dream he was having.

It wasn’t uncommon for her to wash Steve’s uniform. While he was definitely a gentleman, who would never make her do his laundry, Y/N took pride in doing this for him whenever he had a rough mission. He could sleep off the stress while you made sure he woke up to a stress and responsibility-free environment.

She huffed, walking towards the washer, making a mental reminder to set his combat boots out to dry the mud he tried to avoid tracking in. How many pockets does a combat suit need? You don’t see Nat with this many pockets. She knew how Steve was, how he had his own knives, and tools scattered between the fabric of his uniform. Opening every pocket was more of a chore than actually doing the washing, but it was part of the process.

Her hands brushed over soft paper, different from the usual metals that she found from extra bullets to blades. No, this was soft, pliable to her working fingers. She tugged the gently folded piece from his chest pocket. Curiosity grabbed a hold of her, urging her to unfold it and inspect it carefully. It was a photo of the two of them, when they had gone out for her birthday in the last month. He had pulled them to the park, stopping by her favorite store, and then taking a stroll. Y/N had convinced him to take pictures with the self timer on her polaroid, leading to him keeping the photo.

She hadn’t expected him to hold to it like this, folded neatly into the pocket of what he wore whenever he was away from her. She smiled, remembering how he had wrapped his arms around her that day, resting his chin at the juncture of her neck. Happy looked good on him.

She set the photo down in the basket she used to keep his things together, reminding herself to ask about it later. The washer rumbled slightly as the heavy fabric sloshed in the water.

“Sweetheart?” He called through the apartment, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hi sleepyhead,” she wrapped her arms around his middle. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. Where’s my-”

“In the wash, don’t worry about it.”

“Wait,” his back stiffened in panic. “Is it already running?”

“Baby, I said don’t worry I got everything out of the pockets.”

He paused again, cheeks going a little bit redder. “Everything?”

Y/N only smiled knowingly, reaching up to press a smile to his cheek. “Everything. Now what do you want for dinner?”

He smiled sheepishly, following her into the kitchen.

----

A couple of weeks had gone by and all Y/N felt was guilt. While she knew that she was caring enough in her relationship with Steve, she had sort of underestimated her importance to him. Important enough to carry a physical photograph in his uniform.

And while he obviously had held onto something of her while he was away, Y/N had yet to find something to bring her own self any kind of comfort. Most days spent alone while Steve was on a mission were spent trying to stay busy, to keep her mind off worrying. The missions where he couldn’t communicate were the worst. The only thing to keep her feet on the ground was their apartment. The way his scent lingers on the sheets, the small stack of drawing journals in the corner of their room, the record player sitting in the living room. While they were all things uniquely him, they weren’t close enough, needing to hold more meaning.

He was gone now, hundreds of miles away, doing what he did best - be a hero. Y/N’s knee bounced as she sat back on the couch, waiting for her boyfriend to return. He had sent a message hours ago, saying he was on his way back, saying not to wait up. She knew she would stay away as long as she could though, just to see him when he returned.

She tried to relax, wearing one of his large t-shirts and listening to a soft record as she waited. Time, however, was not kind and only continued to move slowly. With a sigh, she decided to do some chores, any chores that were left, to pass the time. That is when she saw them.

While Steve had amazing leadership skills, he was, in reality, quite forgetful when he wasn’t focused on doing his patriotic deeds. That’s why when Y/N moved to the bathroom to change out the towels and saw Steve’s dog tags on the counter, she paused. Thin metal was smooth through fingers, save for the imprints of his name and service numbers that her thumb ran over gently.

It was bittersweet, honestly - holding the thing that began Steve’s entire career, and not having him there to bring any kind of comfort. She pushed away whatever sadness remained, clutching the chain to her chest as she walked back to the living room. Without thinking too much about it, she slipped the necklace over her head, letting the tags hang just under her sternum.

Suddenly, she had something. Something with much more meaning than a scent, something tangible, something close enough. Her worried adrenaline left her body, and as she settled into the couch, she was able to fall asleep with ease for the first time since he had left.

--

Steve was almost worried when he entered the quiet apartment. His return was usually met with some kind of fanfare - a tight hug around his neck, a body scan for any injuries, an interrogation of his mental well-being. Tonight though, the apartment remained quiet as he shuffled through the threshold of the front door. His eyes swept over what he could see, finding nothing too out of place. Of course she cleaned. His ears, those genetically modified ears, however, picking up the slight snore, something she swore she didn’t do, of her sleeping form.

His feet carried him to the living room where she laid against the cushions, wrapped in his shirt, clutching his military tags in her hand. His shoulders dropped as he took in the sight, a new kind of relief hitting his body.

He crouched down, a dirty hand gently brushing the hair away from her forehead. “Y/N?”

“Mmm?” she mumbled, brows scrunching at the vibration of his voice. “Steve? You’re home.”

“Yeah, baby,” he smiled. “Want me to carry you to bed?”

Y/N rubbed her eyes as she nodded, tags falling from her fingers. He swept her up in his arms, thanking a god he had strength in his body. Her head rested against his chest, hand trailing over his heart. His mouth pressed a kiss to her forehead, adoring the sight before him.

“You wearing my tags?” he asked softly, not wanting to disturb whatever peace she still held onto.

“‘M sorry. Was missing you.”

“Shh, baby, don’t apologize.” He set her body down in the bed, pulling the sheets up over body. “You look better in them than I do.”

He left her to take a shower, but not before she called out for him, grabby hands sent in his direction. “Steve?”

“I’m coming right back, I just gotta wash off. I’m covered in sweat.”

“Don’t care. C’mere.”

He chuckled, slipping out of his uniform and saddling up next to her under the sheets. He kissed her head again, whispering words of love and comfort as she fell back into her slumber.

He had never been happier to fall asleep in his life.

forever tags: @avengers-do-it-better @maisondumepris​ @hamiltonwrite12​

steve and bucky tags: @fab-notfat​ @mcueveryday​ @nanners-the-great​ @mcubuckyandsteve @captainfile​ @moonstuffsteve​

steve only tags: @patzammit​

[definitelynotsuzumi]

Zapped to Another World

Genshin Impact x Fem!Reader

I wrote this in my spare time when I was working back in November and thought that I should share this ^-^ 

Depending on the comments/notes and if I have spare time, I may be updating this. 

[Masterlist]

The rain poured down your umbrella. The clouds coloured the sky a dark grey as you ran for the bus. You sighed as you reached the traffic light. Yup, you were definitely not going to be able to catch it now.

School had ended for the year, which meant more free time for you and the new game you had recently gotten into. Genshin Impact.

You could not help but smile at the thought of it. With school out of the picture, you could finally focus on the game completely. There was so many things to do. Farming for artifacts, completing your daily commissions…

You sloshed your way over as the lights turned green. While you love that school is out, you honestly hated the wet weather that came with the winter break and the feeling of wet socks on your feet. After safely crossing the road, you winced as a white truck rushed by, soaking your clothes through as the giant puddle you have been trying to avoid poured onto your skirt and legs.

You let out a sigh as you quickly took shelter under a tree nearby to try and wring out the remaining water when it happened.

“Just my luck…”You muttered as you clumsily balanced your umbrella, “Can it get any worse?”

Just as those words left your lips, it happened. A white flash lit the sky for a brief second. But it was too late. Thousands of volts came cascading upon your body and everything turned white.

“This is your fault.” You heard a voice. It sounded like a young, sulky boy.

“How is this my fault? You’re the one who lashed out when I put down that +4 card down.”

“THAT AIN’T FAIR STILL! I WAS SO CLOSE TO WINNING AND YOU BLEW IT!”

“Uh…What’s going on?” You blinked as your vision settled. You sat in what looked like a library of sorts, with several shelves lining the walls and a long white and gold marble table in the centre of it all. A girl with long, platinum hair glared down at her male counterpart, who huffed in annoyance.

“How about you explain it to her, Artem.”

“Sorry, but I don’t speak to cheaters.”

“Oh for gods sake- fine. We apologize for uhm…Killing you. Truly, a thousand apologies. If only someone can control their temper for once in their life-“ The girl shot a dirty look at Artem.

“LIKE YOU ARE ONE TO TALK! SOLARIA, YOU SINGED MY EYEBROWS OVER KILLING YOU IN AMONG US!”

“Well excuse you! My anger was perfectly justified! You voted me out even when I told you the truth and that I was innocent!”

“DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO EMBROIDER AND GROOM THEM BACK TO NORMAL AGAIN?”

“Could you guys please stop fighting for 10 seconds?” You yelled over the noise. The girl and boy finally stopped, leaving you to rub at your ringing ears.

You sighed. Kids were always a handful back in your home. You had to take care of your cousins whenever your aunt was over, and it often resulted with your ears ringing and your head pounding.

“What’s done is done. I’m…well, dead and I seriously have no idea where I am.” You said, trying to stay composed.

“Well…In your human terms, this is kind of like the After Life.” The boy, Artem explained, sighing as he put down his Uno cards.

“Or well, it shouldn’t since…You were supposed to live for like, another 50 to 60 years. But someone messed it up.” The girl, Solaria, summoned a book from a shelf. You blinked as a weathered leather book with gilded, golden pages floated down onto the table.

“Shut up. I said that I was sorry, didn’t I?” Artem groaned.

“Sir Artem, are you losing your braincells? I was the one who apologized. You still owe the human an apology.” Solaria bit back icily.  

With a wave of her hand, the pages of the book flipped and she studied it carefully for a minute before looking back up.

“Well, as a soul now, you have an option. You can go into Elysium or be reincarnated.” Solaria sighed as Artem huffed again.

“Huh. What do you know? Elysium sounds real good right about now-“You thought out loud as Artem’s eyes turned wide with fear.

“Please don’t go into Elysium!” Artem yelled. The books shook in the shelves as his voice echoed.

“Ow, inside voice please? Hasn’t your mother taught you better?” You winced in pain. It seems that immortals had a throat of steel, judging from the way they could shout infinitely.

“I’m really sorry, but if Dad finds out I brought in another human because I accidentally killed them…He’s going to banish me…To Earth…” Artem looked down onto the table.

He was unable to meet your eyes as you stared at him with bemusement.

“Yeah, as much as I hate to say it, please…Reconsider on our offer to reincarnate. He is on thin ice with Father and if he is banished, I’d have to take on his duties as well. I’m pretty exhausted with the workload as it is.” Solaria sighed.

“As long as it’s not Earth, I’m cool with it.” You looked up at the ceiling, which took your breath away. The entire solar system was on it. With it, was the familiar sphere of white, green and blue.

“Hm, that is easy enough. I could reincarnate you into my world.” Artem brightened up.

Solaria sighed with relief.

“And to make up for it, I could buff you up with a couple of blessings here and there-“

“Within reason.” Solaria cut in, with a sharp look at Artem.

“Psssh, as if it’s hard to make a Gnosis.” Artem had considerably relaxed after hearing your statement.

“Are you serious? Don’t you even know the situation down at Teyvat?!” Your eyes widened. Were they talking about what you were thinking of?

Artem rose to his feet, the ivory wings on his lower back flaring. His eyes gleamed gold as he stared down his sister.

“It’s my world. I do what I like with it. If you don’t like it, get a world of your own.”

“You only got your world because Mother took pity on you. Don’t act all big when you have killed so many humans.”  Solaria hummed, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll only grant this human the bare minimum. Anything more, and I’ll let Father know of your deeds thus far, even if it means more work for me.” Solaria glared back. Her eyes gleamed silver as she did so. You felt a shiver run down your spine. 

“That’s all that I’ll need then. Work on your blessings and gifts. I’ll work on mine.” Artem turned away from his sister. The siblings set to work, the atmosphere of ice cold professionalism now in the air.

Solaria rose from her place on the table. With a flick of a finger, the Uno cards vanished with a burst of gold sparkles. The leather book floated beside her as she constantly referred to its pages while flying around the room.

“Hmm…Not much of a combatant, I see. Polearms and swords will probably be hard for you. Perhaps…A catalyst?” She pulled out a bright blue book adorned in gold, with feathers sticking out.

Blowing off any dust from the beautiful book, she casually tossed it over her shoulder and onto you. You instinctively brought your arms up to protect your face but as the book hit your arms, it disappeared into a burst of gold.

“Huh?” You blinked as you saw the book reappear beside you, its pages flipping.

Solaria returned with a satchel and a bag of gold coins. Looking satisfied as she noticed the book beside you, she inserted the bag of coins into the satchel before sliding it over your shoulder. Solaria hummed to herself before smiling again.

Reaching behind her neck, Solaria detached a shimmering teardrop necklace before slipping it around yours.

“There’s nothing special about it, apart from it glowing. I thought it would be a nice touch.” Solaria winked at you. 

Tilting your chin up, you froze with shock as she pressed her lips against yours.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” You felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“Oh, please. Don’t be flustered. That was merely a blessing of mine. It will help you when you need to speak with the natives of the land.” Solaria coolly said as she wiped her mouth.  

You were still reeling in shock. Your throat seemed to tighten as you coughed. 

“..Thank you, for agreeing with us on our selfish request. To be forcibly stripped of our powers can be the worst pain and humiliation a god or goddess can bear.” Solaria murmured to you as she hurried to the end of the room, where she knelt and seemed to draw symbols in gold.

You held back your tongue. ‘What about me? I got zapped to death here.’ You thought to yourself.

“It is done. Please step into that summoning circle there.” Artem held a floating, golden cylinder in his hands. Solaria rose from her place on the floor, gesturing for you to come over.

It was a Gnosis! You were quick to obey as you hurried to Solaria’s side.

Stepping into the centre, you turned to face Artem and Solaria, who stood side by side. They flared their wings as you sensed an energy swirl around you.

“I, Artem, God of the Moon, grant you passage and dominion over my world, Teyvat. Do you accept, (Y/N) (L/N)?” Artem’s voice echoed in your ears.

“I accept.” As the words left your lips, the Gnosis within his hands flew into your chest. You gasped as it did so, a heat spreading rapidly across your chest.

“Be safe on your travels, (Y/N) (L/N).” Solaria flashed a warm smile as you coughed.

“Resigno!”

The gold summoning circle glowed bright blue and you found yourself falling through the blue skies.

You screeched ungracefully as you fell from the sky headfirst. The green grass was coming up way too fast. 

‘Am I going to die again?’ You thought as you held out your arms to break your fall, only for a huge gust of wind to cushion your fall. 

“Huh?” You blinked in surprise as a person clad in green floated beside you. 

It was a young boy with 2 braids, which gleamed blue in the light. His eyes were a beautiful mix of green and blue. 

‘Venti?’ You gaped as he grabbed your hands and guided you back onto the ground. 

“Never thought I’d have an audience during my practice session. Are you okay?” Venti grinned at you. 

“Never...Never better. Thank you...”You gave a thumbs up as you got air back into your lungs again. 

His deft fingers plucked at his harp as he sat down on the soft grass. 

“It’s no problem. But what brings you here anyways? Not many people know of this spot.” Venti tilted his head. It seemed as though you uncovered his secret place. 

“I- uh well...Accidents happen. I’m not a mad fan or a stalker, I swear. Well, maybe I am a fan but still.” You rambled but you forced yourself to stop talking and to breath. Venti is real and he is in front of me. Venti is real and he is in front of me. 

Your heart was beating fast. 

‘I should say something smart, introduce myself or something.’ You thought to yourself as you composed yourself. 

You wanted to at least tell him your name but the words are out faster than you can stop them. 

“Wanna grab a drink?”  

[lisbonsteresa]

You’re Once (In Any Lifetime)

🥳 🥳 HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY( @eddiediaz)!!!!  🥳 🥳  (little late is better than never fingers crossed. a little something for my drew crew bestie who i have never yelled at, cajoled into watching a show, or threatened with a knife emoji. hope you like the...kind of au of the au of the - let’s just call it the 7th generation of an au 😘)

                                 ___

“She’s lingering again.”

“Call a spade a spade Bess.” George grumbled as she entered the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes. “At this point she��s loitering.”

Nick glanced up from where he was reviewing that month’s order form at the prep table with a slight grin. “Don’t know if you can go that far. I mean she did pay for her dinner.”

“Oh please,” George shot back with a roll of her eyes. “It’s been 45 minutes since she paid her bill and she’s still nursing that iced tea like it’s a long island.” As if she knew they were talking about her, the redhead in the corner booth looked up from her glass and gave a small, unsure smile across the sparsely-seated dining room in their direction. She did not receive any in response.

“What I don’t understand is why she keeps coming here, of all places. I mean it’s not like our food is good.” An offended grunt came from Bess’s right, and she spun around to see the Claw’s cook pressing a burger to the grill with a wounded expression. 

“Oh no, Charlie,” she backtracked frantically, hands held out in a feeble attempt to placate the older man. “I just meant compared to what they must have at the yacht club.” 

Charlie gave a noncommittal shrug, apparently forgiving the unintended slight before moving down the line where he hopefully missed Bess’s whispered  “Or anywhere else…”

“Guys, come on.” Ace cut in, voice calm and measured even as he scrubbed determinedly at a rusting lobster pot. “It’s not like we don’t have other customers keeping us here. What’s so bad about Nancy lingering a bit?” 

“The fact that she’s not just ‘Nancy’, Ace.” George admonished as she tipped her dishes into the full sink in front of him, raising the water level until it sloshed dangerously close to the edge. “She’s Nancy Hudson. You know how the hill-toppers treat us townies -”

“When they’re not wheeling and dealing in back rooms to screw us over while they’re sitting pretty in their ivory towers.” Nick interrupted, his attention still on the sheet in front of him.  

“Exactly.” George gave her boyfriend an appreciative look as she leaned up against the prep table next to him. “And now what, I’m supposed to be happy that one of them deigned to grace us with her presence?” 

“Yes, and I had to take her hill-topper order.” Bess lamented, pouting near the line window until she noticed Nick looking at her with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“You know you’re a hill-topper, right Bess?”

She turned towards him, her expression scandalized and defensive. “That is completely different, Mr. Multimillionaire.” (Nick held his hands up in amused defeat). “I only just became a Marvin; I wasn’t born and raised a hill-topper, unlike some people.” 

“Besides,” she glanced back across the dining room with an insulted wrinkle of her nose, “the Hudsons and Marvins are long-standing enemies; it was humiliating to have to serve one of them.”

“The Hudsons and Marvins, maybe, but not you and Nancy.” Ace countered, leaning the lobster pot against the back of the drying rack before reaching into the increasingly murky water to start on George’s dishes. “You two barely know each other.”

Bess paused, playing with her necklace and staring into space as if considering this fact for the first time. “Well, I guess that’s true…"

“And she’s been spending her gap year here in town volunteering and helping Hannah Gruen set up a scholarship with the Historical Society.” Ace continued with a glance over his shoulder at Nick.

“I mean, that’s great, but -” Nick stopped, eyes narrowing “wait, how do you know that?”

Ace’s hands paused their motions, just for a fraction of a second, before he resumed rinsing a plate and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Must’ve seen it in the paper somewhere.” He muttered offhandedly. “And -”

“And nothing.” George cut him off, crossing her arms across her chest with a scowl. “A few good deeds don’t change the fact that this time next year she’ll be 300 miles away with a full ride to some Ivy League school just because of her last name, and the rest of us will still be stuck here cleaning grease traps in an old clam shack.” Ace’s shoulders tensed more and more with every word that left her mouth. “And since when did you start defending Hudsons anyway?”

“I’m not defending the Hudsons, I’m defending Na-” Ace spun around to face the room and froze, realizing that his raised voice had turned three sets of interested eyes in his direction. (Well, four, if you counted Charlie.) “I’m not defending anybody.” he continued after a beat. “I’m just saying you can’t help who your family is, and at least she’s trying to be better than hers. It wouldn’t kill you guys to try and see that.” 

No one said anything - this was the most upset any of them had seen Ace get since the time that nor'easter put a tree branch through Florence’s windshield. “Anyway, dishes are done; I’m gonna take my break.”

He tossed the towel that had been slung over his shoulder down onto the counter and stomped down the steps towards the storeroom. The back door slammed shut a moment later, and the others turned back towards the dining room to see that Nancy had at last abandoned her iced tea and was heading towards the exit with the air of someone in a rush trying very hard to appear relaxed.

“So…” Bess began, her eyes flicking back and forth between Nancy’s booth and the door. “when do we tell him we saw them making out by the loading dock last Thursday?”  

“I say we make him sweat for a bit.” George said with a shrug as she straightened and headed out to clear the table. “Serves him right for thinking he could keep something like this from us.” Bess and Nick shared an amused smile behind her, then got back to their own work.

If any of them noticed that Ace arrived back from his break 20 minutes late with his hair in disarray, they kept it to themselves.

                                   _____

“Great. I’m going to be picking seaweed out of my hair for a week. Thanks a lot Bess.”

Bess paused her efforts to wring out her dress to shoot an incredulous look in George’s direction. “I’m sorry, how is this my fault!?”

“It’s my birthday George!” Came the response in a mocking imitation of the Brit’s accent. “Just close for inventory George! It’ll be fun George!” 

“Well excuse me for trying to enjoy a nice beach day!” Bess shot back. “How was I supposed to know we’d be attacked by that kelkey-whatever??”

“Kelpie.” Nick corrected, stopping the bickering for a moment while all three turned their attention towards the redhead kneeling in the sand and frantically running her hands over a soaking wet and slightly dazed Ace. “That’s what you called it, right?”

The second Nancy realized she was being addressed, her hands dropped from Ace’s body like they had been burned. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, a kelpie. They’re Scottish horse spirits that drag their victims underwater and devour them. That silver necklace Bess had was its bridle, and -” she paused, looking around to see the others staring blankly at her. 

“Sorry.” Her voice sounded almost sheepish. “I volunteer over at the historical society a lot, and there’s some…interesting stuff in their archives.” Another moment passed. No one’s expression changed.

“…Anyway the bridle can be used to control it, so I think it attacked you to try and get it back. And since you didn’t know what it was, it just seemed easier to grab it and toss it then try and explain why it was making the giant horse spirit angry.” She finished with a weak grin, as if she’d been explaining the weather and not the most terrifying thing most of them had ever seen. 

No one spoke for a while longer, and then Bess’s quiet  “Oh.” broke the silence. “Well…okay. For a second I thought you just really didn’t like my necklace.” 

The tension broken, the others looked at her with varying levels of amusement before she let out a gasp and turned to address Nancy directly. “Wait my cousin Cassidy gave me that last night! You don’t think…”

“I don’t think she knew what it was.” Nancy replied with an almost fond smile. “When the historical society got the request to put the necklace in one its deposit boxes, the record just said it was a Marvin family heirloom; brought over aboard the Governance.”

“And the kelpie followed it all the way here?” Nick asked, eying Nancy sideways as he tried to shake water out of his ear.

She shrugged. “There are some records that say kelpies are bound to follow their bridles, wherever they go. They can’t leave the water though, so it could have gotten into the bay and then…gotten lost, I guess.” Bess was already nodding along as if everything Nancy was saying made perfect sense. “We didn’t realize the necklace was anything out of the ordinary until Cassidy came to request it and Hannah thought she recognized it from her research.”

“Well good thing she did, or this might’ve been Bess’s last birthday.” George smirked. “Never thought I’d say this,” she continued, ignoring her friend’s offended huff and turning towards Nancy, “but I’m glad you were around, Hudson.”

“Thanks.” Nancy sounded like she wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or insulted by the statement. “I was looking for you guys, actually. When we realized what the necklace was, we called Cassidy and she said she’d given it to you for your birthday, and since you were coming to the beach Hannah and I were worried that getting it too close to the water might -”

“Wait, how did you know we’d be at the beach?” Bess interrupted.

Nancy stilled, her eyes darting over to a still-groggy Ace then back to the others so quickly that they might have missed it had they not been watching her so closely. “I must have overheard it the last time I was at the Claw.” Her voice was measured; almost deliberately calm. “When it’s slow there your voices tend to carry.” 

Bess and Nick gave each other an uneasy sidelong glance at Nancy’s implication, while George’s expression grew into something approaching begrudging respect. “Anyway,” Nancy stood, brushing sand off her pants and looking anywhere but in Ace’s direction, “I should get back to Hannah and let her know everything’s okay. See you around.”

She turned and started heading towards the parking lot, and Ace watched with worried eyes as his friends had a rapid fire non-verbal conversation. Bess nodded towards Nick, who responded with a shrug. They both looked over at Ace with small smiles, then turned to George; Nick with one eyebrow raised in question and Bess with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. George glanced at Ace before letting out a labored sigh and rolling her eyes as she called down the beach: “Hey Hudson!” 

Nancy turned, hands twisting in the strap of the messenger bag. “You wanna meet us at the Claw after we get cleaned up?” George asked. “We’re closed for inventory - it’d be a good place to talk about all…this.” (Bess cleared her throat pointedly.) “And we have cake for Bess’s birthday.”

The smile that bloomed on Nancy’s face was beaming, even at a distance. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

                                 ______

It had been three weeks since the kelpie incident, and for all intents and purposes, Nancy had settled in as the fifth member of their little group. She and Bess had gotten along almost immediately, despite some awkward encounters when they had run into family while together. 

Nick had warmed to her considerably once she started helping him with his plans for a youth center in town. (It certainly hadn’t hurt that she’d ‘misplaced’ her grandfather’s application for the building on Spring St. until Nick’s bid had already closed). 

And while George and Nancy bickered almost constantly, they (usually) did it with smiles on their faces. If asked, they might not call each other ‘friends’, but they were definitely heading in a good direction. 

The first Friday afternoon of July found them sprawled out across the dining table of Nick’s loft, brainstorming ideas for that year’s ‘Still Summer at the Bayside Claw’ event. (Or rather found most of them. Truth be told, Bess’s focus might have been more on her online shopping.) They’d been working for an hour or so when a noise like the rapid honking of a clown nose suddenly interrupted the conversation.

“Shit,” Ace muttered, grabbing his phone and snoozing the alarm, “I’m going to be late for Shabbat.” He gathered his things in a rush, exchanged a quick “Bye” and kiss with Nancy, then froze. 

His eyes moved rapidly between the others - Nancy’s wide-eyed panic; George’s look of shock and disgust; Nick’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead; Bess’s almost giddy expression - before seeming to make a decision.

“Uh…Nick,” he croaked out before anyone could react any further, making his way over to where his friend was sitting with an air of forced normalcy and kissing him like it was something he did every day. “thank you for having me.”

“See you tomorrow, Bess.” He continued, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek, causing a giggle to escape her barely-maintained composure.

He turned towards the other end of the table, eying George the way an antelope might eye a lion. “George -”  

“Don’t even think about it.” She cut him off with a glare.

“Right. ‘Course.” He glanced around the room one last time as he backed towards the door, eyes skipping over Nancy as if he was afraid of what his expression might reveal if he focused at all on her. “Um, have a good night everyone.” And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him as his rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway.

A minute passed in complete silence, then another. 

Nick looked absolutely mystified, his fingers stuck halfway to his lips like he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. George’s grimace was slowly turning into an amused smirk, and Bess looked seconds away from breaking into complete hysterics.

Another minute passed before Nancy, staring at the table with a face almost as red as her hair, broke the silence. “So…how long have you guys known?”

“Since before the kelpie incident.” George answered bluntly, while Nick shook off his daze and turned his attention towards Nancy and Bess took a calming breath and tried to bite back her laughter.

“Oh.” 

Nancy’s eyes darted between the table and the door as if trying to decide if it would be worse to try and explain herself or just cut her losses and run. “Ok, well, we were going to tell you, we just -”

“You can relax Nancy.” Nick cut in, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, but finally turned to see an understanding smile on his face. “You wouldn’t be here right now if any of us still had a problem with you.”

Bess nodded rapidly, reaching across the table to cover one of Nancy’s hands with her own. “You make Ace happy, and that’s what really matters to us."

A wobbly smile began to grow on Nancy’s face, before she blinked and turned towards George with apprehension and a bit of challenge in her eyes. 

George’s expression stayed firm until Nick cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the grin she gave Nancy was genuine.“Plus I guess you’re not horrible.”

That pulled a laugh from Nancy, even as she blinked back touched tears she knew George would make fun of. “Thanks guys. I really appreciate that.”

(To say Ace was confused when she walked into the Claw the next morning and kissed him in the middle of the dining room would be an understatement, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.)

[hollandsangel]

hot water | z.h.

hi i wrote this one day when i was sad and needy so do with it what you will

it’s smutty but it’s also the softest thing i’ve ever written fr

summary: zach comforts you when you need it most

warnings: she’s spicy

“Babe? Sorry I’m late.” Zach snickers, kicking his shoes off at the door as he closes it behind him. “Traffic was really bad.”

When there’s no response he speaks a little louder, surprised you weren't there to tease his constant tardiness. “Angel, where you at?”

He’s greeted once again with silence, but the soft sound of cigarettes after sex becomes more detectable as he walked down the hall, tugging gently on the leaves of the plants you had decorated it with. Once he reaches the bathroom, he brings his hand up to the white wood, silver adorned knuckles gently wrapping at the door.

“y/n, baby, you in there?”

The sound of his voice lifts you from the rushing thoughts you’d buried yourself in. “Mhmm, you can come in.” you hum, waiting for the turn of the doorknob.

A puff of steam reveals itself as the door opens, your pretty boyfriend peeking from behind. “Hey pretty girl.” he smiles, walking over to the edge of the tub where you’ve sunken yourself to your shoulders.

“Are you okay, honey?” he wonders, noticing your wide doe eyes peering up at him, tears lining your bottom lashes.

You only shake your head, bringing your wet hand to wipe your dampening face.

“Angel, baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, kneeling down next to the bathtub to bring himself to your eye level.

“I’m so overwhelmed.” you gently cry, trying to cover your eyes again to hide the tears.

“Oh, baby…” he coos as he leans forward, brushing away the hairs that had fallen from your clip and taking your hand in his.

“Can you,” a sniffle interrupts your words momentarily, only breaking his heart that much more, “can you join me, please?”

A sad smile ghosts his chapped lips, eyes falling to your joined hands as he nods slowly. “Yeah, of course, baby.”

His hand falls from yours, relocating at the hem of his oversized t-shirt and lifting the material over his head to reveal his toned muscles and chunky jewellery. Next go his black jeans, followed quickly by his boxers before he walks to the back of the tub. You scooch forward, the water sloshing around with your movement. Zach steps in behind you, his legs coming up next to your sides as he settles into the warm water.

“Mm.” he hums against your shoulder as he secures his arms around your waist, pulling you as tightly into himself as he possibly can. “You smell good, babe.”

A small laugh huffs past your lips and through your tears, your head falling into his chest. “It’s either the bubble bath or all the candles.”

Another grunt comes from him, gentler than the last. “Maybe it’s just you.” he says in nearly a whisper, fingers falling away from your ribs to your hips, then to your thighs where they stay. “You always smell so good, angel.” he drops butterfly kisses from your shoulder to the shell of your ear, just showing your body a little bit of appreciation.

You can feel his lips against your shoulder blade again, his hands coming out from under yours and tracing shapes into your sensitive skin. “How are you doing, honey?” his deep voice asks, thumbs brushing your skin.

“Okay.” you whimper, pressing your back into his chest further, craving the feel of his heart beat against you. With your next breath you turn around in his arms, your own limbs circling over his shoulders and hips.

He watches you with attentive eyes, adjusting his hold on you.

Your glassy eyes connect with his and he drags his hands up to your cheeks, thumbs running over your cheek bones.

“Kiss me, Z, please.” you helplessly whine, eyelids falling over your reddening eyes.

He barely responds to you, his answer coming with his lips touching yours slowly, parting them with his tongue and finding entry. You wrap your legs around him a little tighter, your core pressing against his and eliciting a groan from his throat, falling right between your lips.

You crave him like no other, his touch erasing your pain with every caress and pass of his lips. He deepens the kiss by pressing his lips into yours more firmly, biting down gently on the plushy skin.

He stops when you scrape your nails down his back and press your chest into him. “Angel, sweetie,” he starts, out of breath from giving you all his air. “are you sure?” His ask is soft, brows furrowed with concern as he strokes your skin.

You nod feverently, “please, Zachary, please.” you were crying again, pleading with him, “I just wanna feel you.”

Instantly, he gives in, wanting nothing more than to be with you, be there for you. “Of course, anything for you, angel.” he nods.

His hands fall back to your hips, massaging the tender skin there with calloused fingers. He lifts you up slightly, your legs aiding him. With one hand he tugs on himself, and you were surprised he didn’t have to do more, but you always had him worked up.

“C’mon baby.” his words are hoarse and taught as his tip grazes your entrance, spreading you open.

The water ripples around you, some splashing over the edge and causing soft yellow flames to flicker, shadows painting themselves amongst the walls.

Once he’s fully seated inside you, you let out a heavy breath, ruffling the hairs at the back of his neck as you rest your cheek on his sturdy shoulder.

“Is that better?” he grunts, fingertips digging into supple flesh. “Better to feel full?”

You nod against him, “I can feel you everywhere, baby.” you shutter, tracing his necklaces.

“Yeah? Can you feel me here?” he asks, his palm pressing into your tummy and drawing whatever shape he sees fit.

A hum comes from your throat, followed by a sigh past your bitten lips, your form of an answer reaching his ears, leading him to buck his hips into yours on instinct. You cry out, profuse apologies spilling from his lips immediately.

“No, no.” you breathe. “You’re good, Z. You make me feel good.”

The two of you sit like that for a while, just together. Zach whispers sweet nothings into your ear, telling you how good are for him, how safe you are and how he wants you to be comfortable. A tear escapes every now and then, from the overwhelming feelings imprinted in your life, along with the overwhelming feeling of him. All of him.

“I love you, sweetie. Love you so much, y/n.”

You let a deep breath roll from your lungs, kissing the dip in his shoulder. “I love you too Z, so so much. Thank you.”

He turns his head, lips pressing into your temple. “Always, angel. Always here for you.”

tags!

@randomlimelightxxx @baby-bearie @averysbestyears @would-you-tell-me-who-you-are @g7aesthetic @babyzachyy @wdwjay02 @jocelyntheduckie @chilling-seavey

[ichorai]

cellmates ; one ; j.wy

pairing ; jung wooyoung x reader

summary ; stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?

words ; 3.1k

warnings / includes ; medieval au, blood and grime and death and everything in between rip, wooyoung being handsome despite being in a filthy cell djkdfj, wooyoung being a smartass, reader being petrified half the time lol, future suggestive / mature content, cellmates to (future) lovers !!

a/n ; i’ve been meaning to write a medieval au for the longest time bcs im an absolute sucker for them and i finally got around to writing part one !!! pls be patient for part two !! i hope yall enjoy :3 

cellmates masterlist.

The jail cell was cold. You shivered violently, breath misting in front of you as you blew out a tired sigh. They had stripped you of all your clothes except a thin beige tank top (that had actually once been white), and ripped tights. Dried blood matted your hair to your forehead, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at the moment. It was too damn cold.

You found yourself wishing that you hadn’t stolen that necklace off of the innocent little princess. The silver glinting against her pale collarbones were just too enticing, the angry grumble of your stomach far too loud. That much silver would’ve cost a fortune; you wouldn’t have had to worry about food for years. Unfortunately, the guard caught you before you had time to make your escape, by effectively knocking a heavy baton over your head. 

And the result of your desperate endeavor? A small, icy jail cell in the farthest and darkest corner of the dungeons. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen the sun.

A life sentence for attempting to ‘harm’ the princess. Oh please, all you really wanted was to go to bed without your belly twisting painfully in hunger. At least they weren’t barbaric enough to hang you for that.

The thought had tremors running up your spine. Or perhaps it was the cold.

A dim amber light appeared from the corner of your eyes, echoing footsteps gradually getting louder with each thump. Was it dinner time already? You hadn’t even eaten yesterday’s yet.

The same guard you’d seen just about a thousand times by now appeared in front of the frigid metal bars, melting candle in hand. Grizzly beard blanketing his chin and jaw, faint scar mark running over his left cheekbone, and slanted eyes the color of the princess’ silver necklace. A daily reminder of your worst mistake, it would seem. 

He muttered something unintelligible before shoving a tray through the narrow slot, wintry water sloshing about in the small wooden cup with the same chunk of stale bread on the side that always tasted like metal.

How delicious. The cold had numbed you to the point where hunger was the least of your problems. 

You remembered when you had first gotten here, croaking out a wispy ‘thank you’ to the guard whenever he had given you your food, hoping that he’d take sympathy and give you a bit more, or maybe even get you a blanket. You were foolish back then, you thought solemnly, curling up tighter and burying your face in between your knees. 

Perhaps one of the worst things possible about being in jail was that you had absolutely nothing to do. Sometimes you would try to exercise to keep your blood running through your body and make sure your muscles hadn’t frozen over, but exhaustion constantly hung above you like a stormy cloud. More oftenly, you would make up fantastical stories including dragons and elves and faeries. But after hundreds (or maybe it was just around twenty, but who was counting?) of different stories, your creativity would run short and you would find yourself pausing mid-story, trailing off into a disappointing end of ‘and they lived till they died’.

Turns out you weren’t going to be bored alone, at least. 

You had been in a fitful slumber when you heard the footsteps approach. That was strange, usually there’d only be the one guard to deliver your measly dinner.

Curious eyes grew wide when you took sight of two guards holding up an unconscious man, the toes of his worn leather boots dragging against the damp stones of the dungeon ground. 

What you wouldn’t give for a nice pair of leather boots. Your toes twitched in your worn socks at the thought.

They began stripping him of his clothes, much like they had done to you in the beginning, grunts of exertion leaving them in misty huffs. They left shortly after, grumbling about being ‘fuckin’ cold’. As if they had any right to complain.

In the dim light of the candles, you could barely make out what the new prisoner looked like. He was slumped up against one of the icy stone walls, dark hair tied into a short ponytail. A low groan escaped the man, foot twitching as he slowly aroused from unconsciousness. 

“Fuck,” His voice came out hoarse and raspy. He pushed against the floor to prop himself up at a better angle. More curses left his lips in a rapid flurry. You watched in timid fascination as he raised a pale hand to dab against his forehead, hissing when he pulled away with crimson staining his skin.

Looking upwards, he finally caught your curious gaze. 

The two of you stared at one another for a second before he huffed, reaching up to his head once more. This time, his fingers didn’t only pull away with blood, but with a thin hair pin that glinted against the candle’s small flame.

You hadn’t noticed that your mouth was hanging slightly open when he struggled to his feet, limbs shaking with effort and cold.

And he started picking the lock, stopping every minute or so to blow his breath onto his quickly numbing fingers.

After less than ten minutes, the frozen bars swung open with a rusty creak. 

At that point, you yourself had gotten up, eyes widening. You shuffled closer to your own locked bars. It was as if the man had forgotten you were there, flinching when he turned and saw you pressed up against your cell.

“Don’t leave me here,” You whispered, starting to feel the familiar feeling of desperation clawing at your throat.

For a second, he looked conflicted. A hard, determined film passed over his eyes and he tore his gaze away.

“Sorry,” Was all he said. 

And he left, just as quickly as he had come.

Strings of foul curses left his mouth once he was dragged back. And this time, he was far bloodier than before. He barely looked like the same person.

You had to hold in a breath as they threw his limp body back into the cell, one of them spitting at his feet. Grimacing, you looked away and scowled.

Perhaps if he had let you out as well, the both of you would’ve been able to escape.

Ten minutes after the guards had left, the man across from you reached behind his back to pull something out. He didn’t have another hair pin, did he? Would he let you out this time?

Probably not, you thought bitterly.

The object he pulled out was small and round, a shiny red ball that seemed to glisten beneath the candlelight.

It made a resonating thud against the stone of the cell, echoing down the halls. 

And he did it again. And again. And three, four, ten times more.

“Please stop,” You found yourself saying, a headache brewing behind your temple. But your voice was too soft, drowned out by the incessant bouncing of his rubber ball.

Downing what was left in the damp wooden, you mustered the courage to croakily shriek, “Stop! Please, stop!” 

Startled by your sudden noise, he hadn’t been able to catch the ball’s last bounce, and crimson streaked past as it hit the wall behind him, ricocheting past the jail bars and out into the hallway. You watched silently as it rolled away, until it was far out of your sight.

“Bitch,” You heard him mutter under his breath.

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise as you sneered at him, “You’re a fool, you know. Thinking you could escape a place like this.”

“Oh, yeah?” His eyebrows raised while he shuffled closer, pressing his pale face against the cold bars. Now that he was out of the shadows, you managed to get a proper look of his face. He was all bone and skin, dark hair grown a little too long, hazel eyes glinting along with the dim flames. “At least I managed to get out of my cell. That’s probably more than you’ve ever done.”

If he was trying to pick a fight with you, it wouldn’t work.

“What’s the point, anyways? There’s only so much out there for people like us.”

“People like us… ?”

Your eyes darted to him, and you immediately averted your gaze. It’d been a long time since anyone had properly looked at you. Perhaps under all the blood and grime, he’d actually be quite handsome.

“Commoners, peasants. We grow up stupid, work until our fingers bleed, and then die from a disease because we don’t have the money for a healer.”

A low rumble that could pass as a laugh worked its way out of him, “You’re telling me you would rather stay locked up in here than back outside? You don’t want to feel the sun on your face, the taste of sweet fruits, the warmth of another human being?”

“Of course I do,” You retorted. “I’m just saying that it’s pointless.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, “How long have you been here?”

“Too long to keep track.”

At this point, you couldn’t really tell whether it was refreshing to talk to someone after so long, or just plain annoying. He stayed silent for a moment, before speaking up once more. 

“What got you here?”

You huffed. There was no harm in telling him, right?

“I ripped a priceless necklace off of the princess because I was hungry.”

It was as if his volume tripled when he yelped, “You’re Y/N L/N?!”

How he had that much energy after getting beaten up twice, was still a mystery to you.

“The one and only.” You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. It seemed that you were quite famous in the outside world. 

“That’s amazing,” He breathed out, eyes wide as he leaned further into the bars. “My name’s Wooyoung. I’m your new cellmate.”

Your eyes flickered to his once more. If you were going to be stuck here with him, might as well get to know him a little better.

“I’m not your cellmate,” You deadpanned, despite Wooyoung’s disappointed pout. “You’d need to be in the same cell as me to be my cellmate.”

One of his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug.

“So why are you here?” Part of you was afraid of what he was going to say. He didn’t really seem to strike you as someone who’d do anything seriously terrible… right?

“I… I just threw one or two punches at the crown prince, is all. And maybe a kick to the groin. And gave him a couple broken ribs.” He laughed a little at that last part, as if the memory amused him. 

“You what?”

Scoffing, Wooyoung flicked his hair out of his eyes, “I think you heard me perfectly clear, sweetheart.”

A strange feeling blossomed in your stomach. You shuffled a bit closer to your own bars, until the light hit your face. 

“Was it worth it?”

Wooyoung paused at the unexpected question.

“Yeah, I would do it again. A million times over.” It was the first time he looked away, a distant glaze over his eyes. “He was touching a servant girl and she was begging him to stop. But he didn’t. So I intervened.”

A palpable silence laid over the two of you, thick and heavy.

“Good,” Was all you said. “I’m going to sleep.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s morning.”

You ignored him. Time didn’t matter anymore, not to you. Soon enough, he’d stop caring as well.

Hours and days melted into weeks and months, along with the frost on the bars and the icicles hanging off the ceilings.

At least it wasn’t cold anymore. Everything was wet. 

“Okay… would you rather live knowing how you die or live forever?” Wooyoung asked in queer tone, laying down on the ground with his bare back pressed against the damp stone.

You bit into a chunk of stale bread, pausing to chew around the hard crust before swallowing, “No one wants to live forever.”

“Rich people do,” He murmured, flipping over onto his stomach to do some push-ups.

You averted your eyes. He was right; if you were rich, you would’ve probably chosen the latter option too.

“I’ll choose to live forever when I get out of this goddamn cell. But for now, we’re sticking with knowing how I die,” The raven-haired man huffed out through each strenuous push-up. He’s been getting weaker and weaker by the day, living off of nothing but crispy bread and metallic water and the occasional measly slice of dry apple.

“You’re not getting out,” You scoffed. “We’re not getting out. Why do you keep saying that we will?”

Wooyoung falls flat onto his stomach, blowing his hair away from his eyes in frustration, “And why do you keep saying that we won’t? Do you really think we’re going to die here?”

Throwing your hands up into the air, mouth full and bread crumbs rimming your lips, you nodded vehemently, “Yes! Look around us, Wooyoung. How on Earth would you plan on getting out? I’ve been trying for forever before you came around. I’m still here.”

“Yeah, but that was back when I wasn’t here. Now I am.”

“That’s absolutely great, genius. But guess what? We’re still stuck here!”

Wooyoung scowled at your salty remark. He crawled closer to the bars looking down the hallway to make sure no guards were near. 

Glancing back to you, he whisper-yelled, “I have a plan.” 

“That’s a stupid plan,” You sneered, deadpanning.

The man across from you rolled his eyes, “It’s the only one we’ve got.”

“You do know they’ll find out eventually, right? We can’t just go back to our normal lives.”

“Then let’s run away.” His gaze bore into you as you felt yourself flush heavily. “You and me. We can sneak our way onto a fishing boat, sail off to someplace… not here.”

A shiver ran up your arms, gooseflesh prickling your skin, “Stop.” You mumbled. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

Wooyoung grasped the bars tightly, knuckles turning white, “Y/N, listen to me. We can do it. I swear, I’ll get you out of here.”

It was stupid, you knew it was. But you couldn’t help the small spark of hope flare in the middle of your chest, heart pumping just a tad quicker at his words. Hope was an intoxicating drug; you either get sucked into some sort of deluded fantasy, or live without the illusions of false happiness. 

However, The words left you before you even had a chance to hesitate. “You promise?”

“I swear on my next slice of dried apple.” He said, eyes twinkling with excitement behind the shaggy, overgrown hair. 

“Okay.” You breathed out, somewhat satisfied. The dull ache in your spine was ignored as you slumped against the stone wall, closing your eyes and imagining what outside was like. All you could recall about outside was how terrible it was. Of course, not as bad as being in here, but not much to look forward to.

Cracking an eye open, you glanced to Wooyoung, who had curled up into himself in the corner of his cell, slightly obscured by the shadows. 

Life outside seemed better when you imagined yourself with Wooyoung.

“Remember the plan?”

Wooyoung snorted, rolling his eyes, “How many times have you asked me that now?”

You scowled, “Just making sure you won’t mess anything up. Can you really guarantee you’re strong enough to knock him out?” 

Biting down on his lip, he shrugged in a nonchalant manner, “I’ll try my best. And if that’s not enough, well… it was nice meeting you.”

The two of you waited in tense silence for a couple minutes, the expected thudding of boots coming down to give the two of you your meals for the day. The familiar grey eyes of the guard swept over the two of you, bending down your cell first to shove the tray through the narrow slot like he had hundreds of times before. 

Then, he turned to Wooyoung.

“What’s on the menu today, sir?” 

Stormy eyes narrowed, the guard’s nose wrinkled in distaste, “Th’ same shit you eat every day.” His gravelly voice rumbled, clearly not used to prisoners being able to talk, much less form coherent sentences. “It’s what criminals like you deserve.”

A gasp of mock-offense left Wooyoung in the most dramatic manner possible, “Why, if stopping a rapist from raping is worse than being a killer and killing, then I must be the worst criminal alive.”

“You better shut your mouth before I get half the mind to carve your tongue out for you.” The guard spat, nearing closer towards the bars menacingly, one hand on the hilt of his sword. He wasn’t below leaving a prisoner bleeding and tongueless. 

Wooyoung did nothing but raise an eyebrow, “Oh, come now! I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of kills. Especially when you swore an oath to protect a murderous king!”

Your eyes widened slightly; you had no idea he would go as far as to claim treason. 

The guard, however, cackled the ugliest laugh you’d ever heard. “You seem really not to like your tongue, boy. Only, for that comment, they’ll be taking your head along with it.”

It all happened so quickly, you wouldn’t even have the time to scream if you wanted to. 

Just as the guard leaned closer tauntingly, nose almost brushing against the rusty metal bars, Wooyoung grabbed the front of the guard’s steel collar, yanking him forward into the metal columns with all of his might.

A sickening crack echoed across the stone. 

It happened again, and again, and three more times after that. Wooyoung was panting, eyes wild.

“Is he dead?” You craned your neck to try to get a good look, but it was too dark to make out much of anything. 

“No. He’ll wake up with a nasty concussion in a couple hours, give or take.” 

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” You asked, heart pounding far too loudly in your ribcage. The faint sound of jingling almost had you bursting into tears of joy. He had the keys.

A small, non-committal hum emitted from Wooyoung’s cell. “You learn from dreaming about all the different ways you could’ve done that to the crown prince. And thankfully, I got the chance.” Suddenly, Wooyoung appeared in front of your cell, a ring of small keys hanging from his pointer finger, the widest grin spread across his face. “Told you I’d get you out, didn’t I?”

[cleololax]

Bubbles | A

Ghost!Jimin x MourningFiance!Reader 

AN: My first story post and it’s really really angsty so buckle up, buttercups (and don’t be stingy with the tissues T-T). Inspired by the RUN era because it was my first debut with them and it’s still my favorite.  

Warnings: Death of a loved one, mourning, intense grief and pain 

                              _______________________________

      You normally hate taking baths, preferring to get that tedious part of your routine over with. So you really don’t know what compels you today out of all of them, or so you tell yourself. The bathroom is small and quaint, quiet besides the sound of your jeans and the front button hitting the ground. The cold floor is covered in checkered tiles and light lavender walls. It was decorated long ago to fit your taste when you moved in, still single and excited to get your first place. It is fairly girly yet he had oddly loved it in here. The white tub is situated in the middle of the room, giving it that Parisian chateau feeling. You turn the gold faucet, unleashing the warm rushing water to fill the tub up to the brim. The bath soap is on top of the sink counter, ready to slide down any minute before you quickly grab it. The pink gel is squeezed into the water in a little stream that you are entranced by. Little wisps form before they disappear, leaving white froth in their midst. You slowly drop your undergarments and hastily twist your hair into a messy bun. You test it in the mirror, bobbing your head around in front of the small mirror to make sure that it stays. Your reflection looks back at you, but a much different one than you remember. It turns out that the lack of sleep has gotten to you, shading the space under your eyes a darker purple than before. Getting away with two hours of sleep every night consecutively can never work out and deep down you know that. Still, it angers you that you are,  once again, no exception to a rule. Not wanting to see the sight anymore, you turn around and make your way to the tub. The water is warm and you go down slowly, not wanting to let the water escape. Your body soon gets enveloped and your nerves relax as the warm water does it’s magic. The towel behind you offers your head comfort as you lean back from your sitting position. Nancy, the therapist that has been seeing you since you moved to the city,  had been right when she had proposed the idea of you doing this a couple times a week as a form of meditation. You mentally remind yourself to thank her later on. The plethora of bubbles surround you, creating a sea of iridescence so pretty it makes you want to cry and you would, if your eyes weren’t already swollen and dry. The little light above you makes them brilliantly shine and for a moment, you are lost to the sight. Nothing else matters outside of your little world. This sparks pleasant memories in your head. There is that time the two of you had a water fight, sloshing water back and forth, getting your clothes soaking wet.You had laughed all night and even after as you put the clothes in the noisy dryer. It isn’t enough, never enough. These memories won’t bring him back to you, no matter how hard you wish. They won’t provide you warmth on those rainy nights when he isn’t there, but there is a hope that they’ll keep the darker thoughts away. The scent fills the room with the sweet tinge of honey and roses, a great contrast to the bitterness that is settling in your heart when you think of how unfair life is. No, you never are the exception.  He was going to be a dancer on the Broadway stage and you’ll never get to watch his gracefulness, a determined look on his face as he lets the music take over. He’ll think he has forever to climb his way to the top, but it’ll be ripped from him. Your eyes momentarily close, trying to shut out all of the thoughts racing in your head. The ones that keep you from joining the living around you.You have to be calm because that is the whole point, after all. To relax and to find a new way of coping besides the self destructive path you have been treading on.  When you feel yourself getting lighter, a voice cuts in. A faint one at first, but slowly growing. Like when you’re asleep and it is all muffled. It is a voice you recognize, one that had said silky ‘I love yous’ not so long ago. The blood in your veins seems to catch on because it grows cold, all too quickly. It couldn’t be. Your mind has to be imagining it. It isn’t real, can’t be. And you wonder how your senses can play their mean tricks on you, taunt you in a way similar to a knife twisting through the heart. You are slowly losing your sanity and it’s not the way you want to go. Your eyes are still shut, hoping that you can take yourself out of here, imagine yourself elsewhere. It isn’t until you feel the water by your feet move that you gain the guts to open your eyes wide. It’s your name said aloud this time, and you figure out that it’s coming from the door. Not from somewhere, but from someone. The person you thought you’d never see again is suddenly leaning on the door, his arms crossed before him. You hesitantly look into his face, no longer met with the pale shade it had been the last time you saw him. His lips are no longer blue, but the plush pink you have always been jealous of. He has an amused grin on his face, his eyes trying to read your expression. He was always frustratingly good at it, making it impossible for you to hide the feelings you hadn’t wanted him to see. Your eyes are probably still the size of saucers and your jaw still open wide. Breathe you tell yourself, just breathe. He isn’t real. Why did he look so real, then? “It’s nice to see you too, love” he slowly speaks out. Those words seem to snap you out of your trance and confusion. Your heart still beats the same rhythm, maybe recognizing the person it still belongs to. And all of a sudden, the anger bubbles up from somewhere. He comes towards you. 

“Ah-ah, I have only a little bit of time. Let’s make it count.” You are still shocked, fingers digging into the palms of your hand. He comes to sit on the edge of the tub. 

“After all those times of begging you to come take a bath with me, you finally do it after I’m gone. I’m hurt, Y/N.” 

     He jokes and it makes you remember all those times he had pouted and whined for you to join him, but you never wanted to. You should have because you wouldn’t have regretted it like you do now. His fingers glide through the warm water, occasionally popping some bubbles. Then, you feel the warm anger that creeps up your neck. How could he be joking right now, of all times?

    Three months of loneliness and emptiness make your mouth feel dry and it’s hard to speak. He always tried to lighten the mood  and it drove you wild, especially now.  

“Really? You’re here and it’s the first thing you do is... laugh? You fucking bastard.“ Everything is a blur and you don’t know how you’re there on the rim of the tumb, hands pounding on his chest, water soshing around you.

“I haven’t washed your stuff, I keep your keys on the counter the way you left them. Everything is as you left it!” Even me. The words tumble out, even if they’ve swirled around in your mind, ontoletters that your therapist advised you to write. Warm hands catch a hold of your wrists.

“Y?N I-” Regret is laced in his tone and the red tinges on your vision disappear as soon as they appeared. 

“No, no don’t say anything.” your body deflates. You lean your forehead on his thighs. The energy you stored is gone, all gone. After some time, you regain your senses.

“How are you here, right now? Are you really here, or have those pills finally screwed with my mind?” You try to not let your voice crack, and instead let a sad smile take its place. You’d rather a sad one than none at all.  He looks at you then, his earlier humor gone. 

“You were thinking of me again weren’t you? I couldn’t be here if you weren’t. I’m so sorry, love.” 

     He reaches out to touch your hand, lovingly, like he has so many times before. You have to imagine that the warmth is still there. You look up at him. A beautiful sight he was, is, to behold. Even in death he has remained beautiful. A pure angel with the sparkle in his deep chocolate brown eyes and his orange hair, glistening under the artificial lighting. It looks exactly like the first night he had come home with it, surprising you. You want to remember it, him like this, for the rest of your life. You suddenly forget how to breathe. You got that very word tattooed one night on your bicep with him by your side, and you still can’t even remember to do it. He notices the way you look at him suddenly.

 “I miss you, Jiminie.” 

 “And me you. Always and always.” 

As if reading the swelling of emotions in your eyes, he silently adds, “It’ll get easier, I promise. “ He reassures you with a smile. “Should I join you?” he asks. 

You follow his hand to where it meets the hem of his white shirt. You frantically reach out to stop him. You don’t want him to take it off if it means that those markings will be visible, taunting you. Reminding you that they could have been prevented if only you hadn’t been too late.

 “It wasn’t your fault. I was the stupid one. I should have listened to you and just stayed home.” 

All of a sudden he gets into the tub, across from you. You need to be there, close to him, so you cross the space and bubbles and time and  he opens up his arms wide.  

“I should have been there, when you were calling out my name.” The tears slowly trickle down, dropping. The saltiness is hard to swallow. You snuggle closer. 

“The doctor told you, I’m guessing. All that matters is that you’re here now.” 

Jimin kisses the top of your head, missing the strawberry scented shampoo. 

“Marnie still sniffs by the door, ya know. Always around the time you used to take her for her walks”, you say quietly. You toil with his silver necklace, tracing his collarbones and beauty mark as you hear his steady  breathing. 

“My two favorite girls. But I need you to stop taking the pills, Y/N. They’re ruining you. I don’t want you to join me sooner than you have to. I’ll wait.” 

“They help me, though. With everything. The numbing helps me get through the day, Minnie.”

“Well, stop. Find the passion you had for living again, Y/N. Get one of those canvases and start painting again in the morning, go out and plant something weird. I know you can do it, baby. Nothing could ever stop me from seeing you, but I won’t do it if it makes everything worse. Promise me.” 

“I promise,” you faintly sigh. 

     You can’t imagine him not visiting you anymore. You haven’t realized it until today when the hunger to have him here hung over you. Time lapses together in that small room. You’re listening to his heartbeat or you imagine that you do. He hums by your ear. Your need to close your eyes has never been more strong in that moment. Just one little action could keep him in your embrace forever. Of course, he probably wouldn’t let you keep your head under for too long. “I have to go.”Take me with you.Those whispered words bring back reality. Jimin kisses the top of your head and gently tugs your arms off of him so he can get up. You’re on your knees, the bottom of the tub feeling rougher on your soggy skin. He sees the frown on your face and sits on the rim again. 

“I’ll come back. This isn’t the last time. I’ll do anything to make sure I see your beautiful face again.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

     The hand that’s in the tub picks up a handful of pink bubbles and he blows it your way with a kiss. He winks and it seems like the charm hasn’t left him either. He murmurs the words “I love you” that make your shoulders visibly relax. You have wanted to hear those words.  You’ve imagined them on your way to work, to the store, in your sleep. However nothing could beat the real thing. In the blink of an eye, the magic that the room held is gone with him. The pink bubbles don’t quite hold their shine or their scent, each one eventually popping. With a fluffy towel wrapped around you, you decide that it’s time to go to bed. Before you turn the knob, a little message appears on the fogged up mirror. This time and for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile graces your lips. In his neat handwriting, the words “my butterfly” linger, until the steam disappears and the water droplets travel down, making the text unrecognizable.

[for-a-muse-of-fire]

tame your demons

the wench and the witcher

"tame your demons”

Fandom: The Witcher (2019)

Paring: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!POC Reader.

Summary: Geralt keeps pieces of himself locked away and sheathed in ice. Sooner or later, the ice does have to melt.

Warnings: Possibly hard teen - we get a little smexy towards the end of this one, but nothing graphic. We are definitely getting into some angst now, kids.

A/N: I have a lot of feelings about these two. Basically, Hozier’s quote about “trying to love a damaged person” stuck with me and I refuse to give it up. Lyrics and title for this one come from “Arsonist’s Lullaby”, which was actually one of the first Hozier songs I ever fell in love with.

@coconutxraikage - @onyour-right - @ly–canthrope - @kianya-loves - @c-s-stars - @gczanetti1 - @alwaysnatz - @agniavateira - @witchernonsense - @owillofthewisps - @hina-chans-stuff - @yespolkadotkitty​

When I was a man, I thought it ended When I knew love's perfect ache But my peace has always depended On all the ashes in my wake

Gods, you should be used to the cold by now. For his kindness and warmth, your Witcher is capable of it. Biting cold, harsh as freezing rain. You try to insulate yourself against it, hoping that you can somehow bear the winter of his moods when they roll through, but it never seems to get any easier. You brace against the ice-cold of his silences and the way he draws himself away from you – steel your spine, try to smile when the flint in his eyes chips away at you.

Geralt can drop the temperature of a room without so much as a word. It’s remarkable.

And it fucking hurts.

He won’t look at you as you carefully clean the blood from his split knuckles. You kneel at the edge of the tub he soaks in, focused on the task at hand and swallowing back what feel like chips of ice caught in your throat. Even with the hearth fire at your back and the slight humidity from the steaming water, you feel like you’ve been thrown in a damned snow drift. It aches down into your bones.

The hunt had gone badly. Some alderman and his cronies unwilling to pay up for services rendered – and speaking up would have meant leaving town on the end of a rope. Geralt had blown in two weeks ago with an arctic cold around him, frosted over too thick for even you to break through, and then…

And then, there were those backwater pricks from Hagge.

You’d tried to be firm, but polite at first. The Witcher was your guest, and you didn’t take kindly to anyone speaking ill of the people under your roof, but they’d turned their drunken cruelty on you without so much as a second thought. Nothing new, there. You bore the insults when they came without flinching; it was just how it worked. They were the sort of men that didn’t much like being told what to do by the likes of you. A woman – stupid tavern wench.

‘The Butcher’s Bitch’, they’d called you.

And in all the time you’ve known him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Geralt so furious.

You’d managed to pull him away before it devolved to a full-on tavern brawl and crushed aside the hurt when the Witcher had ripped his arm from your grasp. The instigators were summarily banned from the premises; the rest of the night had drawn to a close without incident, save for the fact that you’d practically had to snarl at Geralt to let you tend to his wounds.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break a finger,” you mutter.

Silence. The cold of it sinks in deep. You bite your tongue, standing and letting go of Geralt’s hand in favor of packing your healer’s kit up once more. The bottles clack together with a little more force that necessary as you grit your teeth; under the sting of your ego, you can feel your own anger bubbling just under the surface. Gods, you want to shake him – shout him down, throttle him around his stupid, thick head.

‘Let me in’, you want to scream.

“I’ll be downstairs,” you tell him instead, tone short and hoarse. “Need to settle the accounts for the week.”

He doesn’t stop you until you try to skirt past the tub. One big, scarred hand reaches up from the water and grips at your wrist, halting you in your tracks. His palm burns on your skin.

“Do you know why they call me that?” he growls out.

“No,” you snap. “And I don’t fucking care – “

“Well, you should.”

Geralt looks at you. Finally – finally – meets your gaze and you’re shocked to see those bright eyes have lost the ice behind them. He just looks tired; tired, and angry, with something that could be sorrow hidden just underneath. The firelight dances over his wet skin, reflects off the hammered copper of the tub to give the Witcher a gilded look about him. Pale and broad, tinged with gold. You study him, taking in the fall of his damp hair around his face. He looks so much younger.

You turn your wrist in his grip, shift to lace your fingers with his, and kneel at his side again. He stares at you and nearly seems to lose his nerve, shifting his gaze to the surface of the water. “Do you know of the Curse of the Black Sun?” he mumbles.

His other hand spins lazily over the bathwater, rippling it with a soft noise against the edge of the tub. “Heard it was shit,” you tell him. “Gave a lot of men the excuse to hurt a lot of young girls.”

The Witcher’s soft mouth twitches up, just for a moment – barely a smirk. The line of his jaw goes tense, same as it does when he’s biting his tongue. “Renfri… she was one of those girls,” he says after a moment. “I met her in Blaviken.”

It feels like the bits of ice at the back of your throat have started to melt and you find you can swallow again. Geralt’s hand is warm over yours, both from his own body heat and the steaming water. He’s silent for a long stretch, the quiet broken only by the quiet whisper of the water and the occasional crackle of the logs on the fire. His gaze stays where it is, but he finally begins to speak again.

You learn about Renfri and her men. How she called them off when they were ready to hang Geralt in the woods outside Blaviken. He tells you of Stregebor, and you can hear the sneer in his voice when he mentions the sorcerer by name. How the old man told him that Renfri was a monster, something mad and deadly that needed to be put down. He tells you Renfri’s story. He tells you about the marketplace.

Renfri’s death.

The stoning.

The Butcher of Blaviken tells you his story in a low, even, almost monotone voice. He doesn’t glance at you, not once. But neither does he push you away.

“That’s where the name comes from,” he says at the last of it, and it’s so quiet you’re not sure if he’s meant to say it out loud. “And with good reason.”

You inhale slow, taking in a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. It catches in the back of your throat. You half expect him to shrug away, but when you lean against the edge of the tub – when you grip his hand tight and press your lips against his temple – Geralt seems to relax into the contact. He smells of your soap, and oiled leather. You nuzzle softly into his damp hair.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper to him. “I’m so sorry you had to make that choice, dear heart.”

The Witcher lets out a slow breath, shoulders sinking further into the warm water surrounding him. He lets you take gentle hold of his chin, lets you turn his face until he’s meeting your eyes. You study him, carefully, taking in the sharp cheekbones and the slope of his nose. Your thumb brushes gently over the stubble at his jaw. He leans into your hand, just for a moment.

“You are not the Butcher here,” you tell him, and your tone is fiercely gentle. “You were never the Butcher here, not to me. You are just Geralt – my Geralt.”

Pretty gold eyes flash back at you. There’s a curiosity behind them, something sharp that makes your stomach drop towards your knees because you realize the implication of what you’ve just told him. Shit – shit. Your face goes warm. You bite your lip, but don’t drop the Witcher’s gaze, and you see his soft lips tilt up at one corner. “Yours, hm?” he mumbles.

Your face feels too hot, but you nod regardless. “Aye.”

He stares. Studious, intense, and the heat in your face flushes downward, prickles over your skin until you feel sweat begin to bead at the back of your neck. You duck your head. The Witcher lets you break the spell, lets you escape and stand to grab the large bath sheet hanging by the hearth. You hear water slosh when he stands and steps out of the bath; you feel oddly shy when you hand him the warmed fabric, chewing at your bottom lip as Geralt rubs the water from his pale skin. Shadow and firelight play over the cut of his torso – you watch a bead of water slick its way down the side of his thick neck before it catches on the dip of his collarbone.

All the while, he watches you. You try not to fidget and fail. Gods, you can’t stand it when he looks at you like that – it’s curious heat and shameless, open desire. It makes you feel like you’ve laced your bodice too tight and you clear your very dry throat.

“Are you hungry?” you ask weakly.

The Witcher shakes his head. He stalks towards you – for that’s the only way to describe the movement – dropping the bath sheet as he closes the distance, all pale, naked skin and solid muscle. You can feel the beat of your pulse in your throat when he crowds close and he cups your face in his scarred hands before slanting his mouth over yours. The kiss is deep, but unhurried. Geralt licks your gasp out from behind your teeth, growling in return when your hands grip the solid plane of his back. He kisses you until you feel dizzy, until your heart thunders hard against your ribs and your legs go weak.

“Are you mine, then?” the Witcher growls, low and ominous as summer thunder. He keeps one hand at your jaw; the other trails sweetly down your neck. His fingertips skate over the smooth, polished wolf’s tooth of your necklace. He tugs the laces at the top of your bodice.

“Hm? Does that make you mine, sweet girl?”

The lacing whispers free of its grommets and though the tension on your bodice goes slack, you still find it difficult to catch your breath. You can barely remember how to fucking nod, but you do it. “Yes,” you whisper.

Geralt kisses you again. The heat of it scorches.

[yangsrose]

Blurbs of my WIPS

The order of these are not the order of them being released, but rather in a random order

if you would like to be added to the tag list for any of these please send an ask or reply to this post!!

WIP #1: Xiaojun Fic (heavily based off of the book "Son" by Lois Lowry)

Water. That’s all you felt around you. Water sloshing up and taking over every little part of you, leaving little to no air for you to breathe. You slowly felt your body get submerged by the harsh waves, and before you knew it, you were sucked into the black abyss. You closed your eyes to stop the harsh stings of the salt water, feeling a peaceful spirit come over you as you sunk deeper and deeper into the water.

The next thing you felt was a burning sensation in your lungs. Wanting to get rid of the water that was forcing its way up, you coughed out the cold, bitter liquid that was congesting your lungs. A pair of sweet, warm lips met yours, serving as a contrast to the sea water, and you felt air being forcefully pushed into your airways. You opened your eyes and blurrily saw a man towering over you, his small yet muscular frame hovering over you in worry. You closed your eyes once again, feeling tired from the effort put into taking out the water in your lungs and once again sunk into the familiar black abyss.

WIP #2: Ten FBI AU (based off of this time stamp)

Ten’s job was fairly easy. Or so he liked to believe that. I mean, all he did was just sit in front of a computer and monitor people as they surfed the internet on a daily basis, and make sure that they didn’t do anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. Since he was one of the newer recruits, he was scheduled to look over the more innocent people such as the ones who never searched up anything bad or out of the ordinary. His daily searches consisted of “how to bake a cake” or "how to make a necklace". Innocent stuff as these topics whizzed by his computer screen daily, leading for an easy job on his end. That however, changed when he got assigned to you.

Your searches weren’t… bad or anything, they were just more on the questionable side. In the beginning, your searches were always definitions to words, or just memes that you didn’t remember to save but really needed to send to a friend since you thought it was appropriate. For example, once you searched up “chicken with a knife meme”. Since your search included the word “knife”, Ten was alerted of it, but he dismissed it, not taking the search seriously since he too had that same meme saved as a contact picture for one of his friends.

It wasn’t until your searches became a bit more... progressive for a lack of better terms that Ten began to grow worried. Your searches started pretty innocently, such as “How to erase fingerprints from a surface” and he just suspected that you accidentally got fingerprints on a laptop screen and just wanted to erase them. But after a while, you began searching up things like “acids to get rid of blood stains” and “blunt surfaces that can cause a head trauma.” That caused him to become concerned. He began to monitor your searches more closely, and it wasn’t until recently one day when you searched something extremely concerning that he realised that you were someone that required to be monitored at all times.

Ten called for his boss, showing him the most recent search on your end. “Non-lethal stab wounds'' popped up on the bright screen, and Ten looked back at his boss to see a mirror expression of wide eyes looking back at him.

“I think we have to send you undercover.” Ten’s boss said. He simply nodded and got up from his seat, walking over to his apartment to get everything ready for his mission.

WIP #3: YangYang Zombie Apocalypse AU

"Wait wait wait don't shoot I'm a human I promise!" the young boy held up his hands and walked out from behind the wall the he was using as his hiding place. You refused to lower your weapon down, not wanting to let your guard down out of a fear of being tricked into your own death. You made eye contact with him and felt your hands shake, fearing that the worst might come to you.

As he walked closer, you realised that he was in fact who he claimed to be, the light tan colour of his skin glowing under the moonlight. You felt the gun drop from your hands and your body seemed to work on its own, causing you to run up to him and do the unthinkable.

You kissed him right on his lips.

WIP #4: Kun Astronaut AU

Being one of the only female biomedical engineers in NASA led to some pretty beneficial aspects of your workspace. For example, you were never asked to stay longer than an hour before sunset, out of a fear that you wouldn't be able to reach home safely. The only downside was the fact that you were the smallest one on the team, which put you in some... well, for a lack of better terms, unfortunate circumstances.

If anyone asked you how you ended up face to face in a underwater lab with your workplace crush, you would not be able to tell them why you were in this situation, but what you could tell them was that even after working strenuously underwater for the past 48 hours, Qian Kun still had the softest skin known to mankind.

WIP#5: YangYang Racer AU

why did this take so long to find an except that actually made sense😭

“You'll love YangYang trust me. He’s a first year just like you, and he’s single” Hendery said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Why does that matter.” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the older boy’s antics.

“Just saying.” Hendery said, shrugging his shoulders. You sighed and shook your head, being hit with the smell of freshly roasted coffee as soon as you entered the cafe. Hendery looked around and spotted his roommate, whose back was currently faced towards the both of you. Hendery walked up to him and tapped his shoulder, causing the male to turn around. As you made eye contact with him, you felt your breath hitched up in your throat.

The boy in front of you was absolutely ethereal.

His dark brown hair swept over his forehead, parting a little in the middle. HIs wide eyes scanned over the both of you, scrunching up as his gummy smile overtook his face, standing up to greet you. He was absolutely adorable, resembling a small puppy or sheep with his fluffy hair flopping over his eyes. Hendery noticed your state and smiled before muttering a soft “whipped” under his breath before introducing him to you.

“This is my roommate YangYang. He’s studying automotive engineering as well but secretly he wants to be a formula one racer- OW why are you hitting me? That’s the truth, right?”

“No one’s supposed to know that!” the younger male gritted through his teeth, sending Hendery a fiery glare.

“Sorry about him, Hendery has trouble keeping his mouth shut.” YangYang said, glaring at Hendery in the process.

“I’m y/n.” You muttered, feeling shy all of a sudden. YangYang beamed and stuck his hand out to you to shake, which you took gratefully. You felt your hands get clammy at the thought of holding hands with him, and you felt as if you were stuck in some sort of a trance as you shook his hand.

“Okay love birds you both can hold each others hands at the table let’s get going come on now.” Hendery walked towards the table while turning back to smirk at the both of you. You and YangYang let go of each other's hands and followed Hendery to the table, feeling your faces grow warm at his comment. You gritted your teeth and walked over to the table, silently vowing to never let him use your notes the next time he asked for them.

WIP #6: YangYang Haunted House AU

"YangYang I swear if you try to scare me one more time I will leave you here all alone and I don't care if you're the only way that I can get out of here."

"Uhh y/n? That wasn't me. I'm over here." YangYang said, appearing from the small passageway that was in front of you.

"Wait. If you didn't tap my shoulder, then who did?" you asked, feeling the hair on the back of your neck raise. You turned around and found yourself face to face with a bloodied man holding a pickaxe who was currently swinging it uncomfortably close to you. You felt a scream rise up on your throat and you screamed while grabbing YangYang's arm, using all the strength in your body to pull him along with you. YangYang soon began running faster than you, and he started pulling you after him through the numerous twists and turns.

"Next time you ask me to go anywhere with you I'm saying no" you said, venom seeping through your voice along with deep gasps for air.

"Agreed" YangYang said, regretting every action that led up to his decision.

WIP #6: YangYang Gamer AU

"So you're saying you've never played a single game in your life."

"Do coolmath games count? Because if so I am a beast at fire boy and water girl." you said, your eyes lighting up at the fond memories of playing that game. YangYang sighed and rubbed his temples, feeling stressed at the fact that there was a lot more than he expected to have to teach you.

"Okay how about this. You, me, tomorrow after school in my dorms to learn how to play games because there is no way that I am letting my best friend go their entire life without knowing how to play anything other than coolmath games."

WIP #7: Sungchan Spider-Man AU

"You're Spider-Man. The one who was just on the news." you said, feeling your heart rate accelerate.

"No? What are you talking about? I think you had too much caffeine and too little sleep let's get you to bed now." Sungchan said, maneuvering you over to the door.

"Sungchan, I just saw you crawling on the ceiling and you just shot a web out of your wrist. I even pinched myself so I know for a fact that this was not a hallucination." you said, your speech accelerating with every word. Sungchan sighed and tried to look for a way to cover up his odd behaviour, but in the end opted against it when he realised he was still wearing his suit.

"Please tell no one." he pleaded, turning around to face you with the biggest puppy eyes.

"So it is true" you whispered, your eyes growing wide at the revelation. The last thing you remember was seeing Sungchan's panicked eyes as he lunged forward to catch you before darkness enveloped you.

WIP #8: Johnny Secret Agent AU

"What do you mean run?" you asked, turning to face your partner.

"I may or may not have accidentally set off a bomb timer somewhere around here and if we do not book it out of here in the next two minutes we are going to be like the toast that you had this morning."

"Hey! Just because I like my toast slightly burned does not mean that you can make fun of it."

"You call that slightly burnt? The whole bread was a different colour and the house smelled like smoke." you scoffed and rolled your eyes before turning away from Johnny, wondering why the both of you were still here.

"What's taking Mark so long?"

"Listen here Mark if I die I will haunt you in my sleep please find a way to get us out of here." Johnny said, speaking into the in ear that was directly connected to your "man in the chair" back at the headquarters. You heard frantic typing as Mark tried to find a way out of the room, but as every second passed, it was apparent to you that you and Johnny were one second closer to your great demise. Thinking quickly, you grabbed Johnny's hand and ran out of the room, hearing Mark's voice as he directed you throughout the area, leading you two to safety only a few mere seconds before the bomb went off.

WIP #9: WayV Social Media AU

You think your roommate is going to take you out sometime soon, but you don't know whether it's with a knife or on a date.

[calpalirwin]

Look How We’ve Grown

Summary: You never forget your first crush.

A/N: Yeah, I ended up writing it.

Word Count: 1.3k

And away, and away, we go!

__

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice called from beside the man.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, stepping out of her way so she could get past him to reach for one of the boxes of cereal on the shelf.

“Michael?” the woman said again, halting her movements to carefully study the man in front of her.

“Sophia?” he responded, taking a good look at the woman.

“Holy shit, it is you,” she breathed. “Geez, it’s been… wow…”

He gave a short chuckle as he passed a hand through his hair. “Fifteen years?”

“Give or take,” she told him with a nod, a dazed smile on her face. “Wow… how’ve you been?”

“Good, good. You?”

“Good,” she smiled, shaking her head. “Sorry, I just… this is crazy.”

“You’re telling me,” Michael laughed. “When did you move to LA?”

Sophia counted on her fingers as she thought. “Like 2, 3 years ago. My job relocated me.”

“Oh, shit. That’s awesome. Hey, um… would it be totally crazy if I asked you to dinner, or something? So we could catch up?”

“That sounds great. Do you still like pizza?”

“I love pizza.”

“Cool, there’s this place off of Santa Monica Blvd. De Santos?”

“Oh, I love them! Tomorrow at 7?”

“See you then.” Sophia started to move away to finish her shopping but stopped before she got to the end of the aisle. “Hey, Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Really good to see you.”

“Really good to see you too, Soph.”

~~~

“So which colors do you think we’ll have the most of?” Sophia asked, her mouth watering at the sight of the snack-sized bag of M&M’s sitting in the middle of the desk between her and Michael.

“Blue,” Michael responded.

“Blue,” Sophia repeated slowly as she wrote his answer down on their science sheet. “We have to say why.”

“Because there’s more blue dye?” he guessed with a shrug.

“That’s silly!” she laughed.

“Well every time I eat M&M’s there’s always more blue ones,” Michael continued to defend his answer. “Plus,” he went on to add, tapping at the worksheet. “It says ‘hypothesis.’ We can be wrong.”

“Fine,” she huffed, her pencil scratching their answer onto the paper. “We think there will be more blue colored M&M’s because blue dye is more popular,” she spoke aloud as she wrote, both as a way for Michael to know what she was writing, and for him to approve or offer suggestions.

“Perfect. Now what?”

“Now we open it, and count how many there are total. And how many there are of each color.”

Michael tore open the package, carefully spilling the candy out on their desk. They raced each other to count them all. “13!” they both shouted at each other in victory.

“2 green,” he told her, already separating them by color. He prattled off the other numbers as she recorded them. “1 yellow. 1 orange. 2 red. 3 blue! And… 4 brown. Dang!” He slumped against his seat, crossing his arms.

“It was a good guess,” she told him, trying to make him feel better. “You were almost right. And we’re allowed to be wrong,” she reminded him.

“I guess,” he shrugged, but sat up a bit straighter in his chair. “So now what? Do we get to eat them?”

Her eyes scanned down the page, her finger trailing down it. “We have to explain if our hypothesis was right or not. But I have the numbers down, so yeah.”

“Okay,” he said, setting the dividing up the M&M’s. “Do you want yellow or orange?”

“Yellow, please,” she replied, as she filled in their last answer. “Our hypothesis was incorrect because there were more brown M&M’s than blue ones. Done!”

“These ones are yours,” he said, moving a small pile of the candy over to her side.

“But I have 7…”

“Yeah. I was wrong, so you can have the extra.”

She smiled briefly at him before an idea struck. She carefully bit into the blue M&M, tearing half off into her mouth, the other half still safe between her thumb and index finger. “Here!” she laughed, handing him the uneaten portion. “We can each have half.”

“Ew, it was in your mouth!” he giggled, taking it anyway.

“Well, I’ll take it back,” she said, holding out her hand.

“No way!” he continued to giggle as he popped the piece in his mouth.

~~~

“I can’t believe you remember that,” Sophia marveled at the man. She gave a toss of her head as she took a sip of her beer.

“How could I forget? You were my best friend all through primary school.”

“Yeah, and then you got buddy buddy with Calum Hood, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Michael laughed. “I thought you liked Cal.”

“Oh, yeah. Cal’s great. So is Luke, so I’m glad you finally stopped hating on him.”

“Oh, I still hate Luke.”

Their laughs rang out. “Nah, I’m really glad you became friends with them. It worked out great for you.”

“The way you say that makes it seem like I just up, and ditched you for the guys. That’s not what happened. Was it?” His question held a trace of fear, like his version of their past being carefree and innocent was a lie compared to her memory.

“No, no,” she assured him. “I mean, I played my part in it, too. One year we were running around the schoolyard, swimming at each other’s houses, inviting each other to our birthday parties, trading Halloween candy, and being each other’s Valentines. And then the next we weren’t.”

“Yeah,” Michael reflected sadly. “I still can’t believe you were the only girl in our year who’s mum let you invite boys to your birthday.”

“Just you,” she confessed. “You were the only boy I ever invited.”

“Shit, really?! Damn… way to make a guy feel special, am I right?”

“I tried,” Sophia laughed.

“You succeed. Not many girls get to say they were my friend before all of this.”

“I imagine not many girls get to say they were in love with Michael Clifford pre-fame either, but they’re both titles I wear with honor.”

Michael choked on his sip of beer, some of it dribbling down into his beard scruff. He set the glass down, the liquid sloshing wildly. “W-what?”

Sophia’s cheeks burned. “Oh, you had to know.”

“I- I mean I had my guesses, but I never thought if it was true or not. Never really believed it. I mean, I was just some goofy ass kid.”

“A goofy ass kid who held my hair back when I threw up in a trash can in Year 1. A goofy ass kid who didn’t run away scared with all the other boys once cooties became a thing. A goofy ass kid who gave me a necklace for my eleventh birthday that I still have somewhere.”

“Okay, my mum gave you the necklace. My name was just on the card.”

Sophia chuckled softly. “Point is, Michael Clifford, you may have been a goofy ass kid, but that’s exactly why I loved you. And I was never much for believing in regretting things, but if I have one regret it’s that I didn’t tell you back then when it would have mattered.”

“Who says that telling me now doesn’t matter?”

She laughed in disbelief. “Because why would it? It was a primary school crush. And, I mean, I’m glad it was you, and not someone who grew up to be a douche. But c’mon, Michael.”

“Because if you had told me back then, I would have been the goofy ass kid who’s cheeks turned red as he ran away and laughed about it with his friends. Because you told me now when I’m grown up enough to do this.” He leaned towards her, his palms flat on the table as his head lowered to kiss her. Her own hands landed on top of his as she moved to meet him halfway, sighing in content as their lips connected. “If your one regret wasn’t telling me back, then mine’s not doing this back then,” he admitted as they pulled back, eyes shining and lips tingling.

“Who says they have to stay regrets?” she asked, hooking a finger under his chin and pulling him back in for a second kiss.

__

Tag List

@frontmanash​​ @goeatsomelife​​ @flameraine​​ @creator-appreciator​​ @cxddlyash​​ @1-irwin-94​​ @sparkling-calm​​ @tea4sykes​​ @youngblood199456​​ @5-seconds-of-obsession​​ @gosh-im-short​​ @aquarius-hood1996​​ @talkfastromance4​​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @philthepegacorn​​ @boomerash​​ @teenwolfss24​​ @karajaynetoday​ @myfavfanficsever​ @stormrider505​ @cashtonisruiningmylife​

[raging-violets]

Cadence Nash . . . let's plot-bend a bit. Nora's arrival in season 5. (I'm assuming she doesn't exist, in your flash and flame series?)

Actually...she does! That’s who Alexis is! I just changed her name and some of her background, because Barry and Iris aren’t together in my series. (If this doesn’t actually answer your question, I’m sorry! lol).

I actually have a bit of this scene written out already so I’ll copy/paste that in for you!

[Send one of my OCs + A Canon scene]

Barry stared at the ceiling, eyebrows pinched so tightly he was starting to get a headache. And yet, he didn’t move in fear of removing the arm laid gently around his midsection, hand brushing against his thigh. If he moved too much, he’d wake up Cadence, and if he woke her up, then she’d take one look at him and he’d have to explain why he had such a concentrated look on his face.

Especially when there was no explanation necessary.

He was a father.

Barry Allen was a father.

Not that he hadn’t been a father before, long before himself and others had realized it—Brady had certainly moved his way into his heart easily. Since first meeting the then eight-year-old in Jitters, who looked up at him over the muffin he demolished, only knowing Barry as his mother’s friend, and liked being around him long before he knew Barry was the Flash, Barry felt a sense of protection over the young boy that he’d quickly grew to feel was a son.

But, it was different to know he had a daughter who was, in fact, his. Especially when said daughter wasn’t supposed to exist yet. Wasn’t supposed to be known for a few decades. More importantly, the first thought that came to Barry’s mind was how was he going to explain her presence to everyone he knew and loved?

How much was there to explain when your future daughter appeared out of thin air—out of the future, from thin air—and said they were now stuck? Barry knew there was something a bit off about her when he met her at the wedding, saw his daughter for the first time and the way she grabbed his hand…

Barry gently lifted his head from his pillow, far enough to look at the ring that glistened on his left finger. Then he looked towards Cadence, who’s own finger was bare, save for the lightning bolt tattooed in its place. Nevertheless, as his wife lay on her stomach arm stretched across him, he could see the glimmer of the necklace around her neck, holding her ring.

Had it really been that long ago? He remembered it as clear as day, as if it were yesterday, as if nothing with DeVoe and his stint in prison had ever happened.

Inside the church, Barry paced, running his hands over his hair, muttering to himself. Just pre-wedding nerves. Jitters. Something that hadn’t struck him until the last five minutes. Everything needed to go perfectly. He needed to have good memories of something. Anything other than his being kicked from the CCPD and…DeVoe…and Demon…and…

“Sparkling water?”

“Excuse me?” Startled, Barry faced the waitress who stood behind him, holding a tray. She seemed to appear out of nowhere. Barry looked around, noticing the other guests all were holding onto glasses from her dwindling tray. “Oh, uh…” He hesitated. If food went through him that fast, a fact Diggle consistently wondered about, drinking too much wasn’t going to help before he got to the front of the church, either.

But he couldn’t get drunk, so that wasn’t much of an issue.

“I thought you might be a little parched,” The young woman said. She pushed her tray towards him, keeping a firm control of the pale liquid that sloshed around. “Jitters. Big day and all.” She gestured with her tray. “You’re getting married.”

“I am,” Barry agreed. He stepped back, eyeing her closely.

The young woman beamed. “Today.”

“Yes, I am. Today.”

The young woman continued to smile up at him. Her eyes sparkled, almost as if it couldn’t contain the mischief within her. Or she was laughing about something someone had told her before. Barry’s eyebrows came together. The young woman jumped at the change in his expression and offered the tray once more. “So, uh sparkling water?”

“No, uh, I’m good.” Barry waved her off. He quickly added a, “Thank you,” noticing her face fall.

Instead of going on to the next guest, the young woman continued to speak rapidly. Almost rambling. “Okay. So, uh, I’m really excited to be here. I mean, at a wedding. A-any wedding, it just so happens to be your wedding. But I’m happy. To be here. Today.”

Barry smiled a little. The energy and friendliness she exuded was unable to be ignored. She was already starting to make his nerves recede. “You…love weddings?” He guessed.

“I really do.” The young woman looked around. “I mean, this looks to be a little expensive for something of your guys’ taste. Not quite something I would’ve chosen for you. But, it’s still beautiful.” She chewed her lower lip, her smile growing wider. “I’m sure you’ll all enjoy it. You know, the whole wedding deal. Wedding day, wedding night…everything that comes with it.”

Barry could feel himself starting to blush, unsure if she realized the double entendre she managed to put into her words. “That’s cool,” was all he could manage to say, hoping no one around had the ability to read his mind.

The young woman blinked rapidly. “Not that I’m a weirdo or anything. I’m coming off weird, aren’t I?” She tapped herself on the forehead, as if reproaching herself. She sucked in a deep breath, shoulders slumping. Curling her fingers around the end of the tray she admitted, “I just love weddings. Some people call me a nerd for it.”

Her comment made Barry laugh. “Well, coming from the biggest nerd on the planet.” He gestured to himself. “I think it’s cool.”

“Thanks.” She smiled widely, obviously relieved. “I just…I don’t know. I feel like this is going to be one for the ages. I’m really glad I got to see it.”

Barry got a good look at her face. Something about her seemed to familiar. So much so, it was practically radiating off her. She looked to be an asian woman; no, he decided after a moment, biracial. Very youthful with hazel eyes that looked bluish towards the center. Her smile was wide, a mixture of what appeared to be shy and outgoing. She stood a bit shorter than him, about 5’6” if he had to guess. Hair hung low, past her shoulders in long waves.

“I…I’m sorry…” Barry tilted his head. Continued to watch her. Couldn’t shake the feeling. “Have we met before?”

“No!” The young woman jumped backwards. The sparkling water she carried threatened to slosh over. Both reached for it, but the woman expertly moved her hands and followed the momentum of the tray to keep it up. “No, I’m a complete and total stranger. So! Good luck up there.” She grasped his wrist, holding him firmly. Barry glanced down, feeling a tingling sensation run up his wrist. “Remember to say ‘’I do’.”

Despite his confusion, Barry managed to grin. “Have you been talking to Brady?” How many times had he been buzzing around him, pestering him to be sure he knew what he’d say for his vows?

“Not recently.” Once again, the young woman looked startled. Nervous. She dropped her hand from Barry’s wrist and took a large step back. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” She turned on her heel and headed to the nearest guest she could find.

If Barry were more naturally suspicious, he would’ve said something then. Asked her more questions, let him know he was onto her. Onto her about what? He wasn’t sure of at the time. But now…to know what she’d done? To know how many lives she’d put in danger? To know what she’d done to the timeline. Or what was left of it? How did he know he wouldn’t wake up that day and Brady was no longer a boy but suddenly twin boys? Or that he’d married Caitlin instead of Cadence and he hadn’t just finished some sort of an illustrious affair?

At the thought, Barry shook his head, sitting up. He raised his knees, prompting Cadence’s hand to drop from his lap, and he pressed his face into his hands. His cheeks were warm to the touch. He’d hoped he wasn’t getting sick from stress.

He replayed the conversation from before. How she, Alexis, his daughter, barged through the front door at baby Jenna’s party and explained herself, speaking rapidly and enthusiastically to Barry’s question of, “Who are you?”

Alexis smiled awkwardly at her father, placing her hand on her chest. She took in a deep breath to steady herself and said, “My name is Alexis. And I’m your daughter…” she looked to Cadence. “From the future.”

Brady nearly choked on his drink. He sputtered, turning to the side to spit a mouthful of soda to the wooden floor. Joe and Cecil were too stunned to reprimand him for damaging their floor. Brady sputtered, coughing before he finally managed to squeak, voice cracking, spitting it out and coughing hard. “You’re what?” He demanded, glancing at his mother, whose expression rivaled that of his step-father’s.  

“Okay, uh...” Alexis ran her hands through her hair. She closed her eyes, collecting herself.

Barry took the moment to looked toward Cadence, who looked back at him eyebrows lowered, lips pressed hard together. She was angry, he could tell. Not enough for smoke to come from her ears, but angry. Barry blinked in surprise. There were many things to be in the situation; shocked, confused, curious, but not angry. She took her eyes from her husband when Alexis continued.

“Let me explain.” Alexis searched the sea of confused faces, looking for a friendly face. When she found none, she cleared her throat, wringing her fingers together. “I’m Alexis Nash-Allen and I’m the fastest woman alive. Where I’m from, 30 years from now, I’m the guardian of Central City. I’m a speedster.” She smiled at Barry, a smile filled with pride. “Just like my dad. People call me Overdrive.” She then paused and shrugged. “Or Flash Fire.”

At that, Cadence raised an eyebrow. Barry looked to her again. This time she was less angry and more curious. No, Barry understood now. She was watching Alexis closely, trying to determine whether she was telling the truth. He could see his wife’s eyes gently and subtly flicker back and forth over Alexis’s face hoping to find anything that’d prove her to be untrustworthy.

Alexis seemed not to notice as she continued. “Every day, I hope to live up to the legacy of the Flash.” She shrugged once more. “But I’ve still got a long way to go.” Silence punctuated the end of her speech. She looked at the sea of faces once more, smiling, giggling nervously.

Finally, Barry broke the silence. “You’re our daughter?”

“From the future?” Cadence asked to make sure.

“Named Alexis?” Barry continued.

Alexis smiled and nodded.

“Does anybody need a refill?” Cisco’s sudden and loud question broke the stunned silence that followed her admission. He jumped when all eyes turned to glare at him. “Just me?” He squeaked. “No one else?” He practically melted into the couch as he slouched. “A-are you sure? Okay, just me then.” He got up from the couch and headed towards the refreshments. He paused, glanced at Alexis, and grabbed a bottle of champagne, pressing it against his lips to take on a large, gulping swallow.

Alexis, on the other hand, continued to grin around the room. “Cisco Ramon,” she gushed. “Always cutting the tension with a well-timed joke.”

Caitlin finally came from her deep freeze as she listened to the future speedster. “You know our names?” She asked, voice soft with confusion.

“Of course!” Alexis replied. “I know all of you!” She gestured toward Caitlin and Ralph. “Caitlin Snow, my mom’s best friend. Ralph Dibny, my dad’s annoyance.” Ralph turned to Barry with a look that read ‘Really, Rookie?’ while Barry simply opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish. Alex motioned to Joe and Cecile. “Papa Joe, Mama Cecile, Little Auntie Jenna, Uncle Wally, Aunt Iris, and of course.” She beamed at Brady. “My big brother, Brady!”

Brady paled, looking like he was about to pass out. He turned to Cadence, who looked back at him, their faces screwed up in identical expressions of confusion. He turned back to his future sister, looking at her suspiciously.

“And your nickname is…Overdrive?” Wally asked. His voice sounded curious, but hesitant. Almost as if he were trying to test her name roll off the tip of his tongue.

“Uh, not really.” Alexis waved a finger in the air. “I mean, it is. Sort of. Overdrive is what some of the people of Central City call me. But some others call me Flash Fire…after my mom,” Alexis said, casting Cadence a look out the side of her eye. “Because I’m also a fire meta.”

Caitlin’s head jutted forward at the casual comment. “I’m sorry, what? A what?”

Barry lifted his hand to cover his mouth, then let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. A speedster and a fire meta. A meta-hybrid. The first they’d ever come across. Just as Brady was the first half-meta any of them knew about.

Alexis ignored Caitlin and continued. “And, well, Overdrive makes sense. It’s sort of a nickname you guys gave me. Because, I always move so fast. I always move in overdrive. I’ve always been like that, overdoing things, getting in over my head.” She twisted her mouth to the side, kicking at the floor. “Like, recently. Like, when I helped you break, the STAR Labs satellite last night.” Barry’s eyebrows as his eyes widened. “I just couldn’t help myself from getting involved. But something happened when I did, because I can’t seem to go fast enough to open the speed force.”

Ralph loudly, made a disgusting sound that, maybe, could’ve sounded like someone clearing their throat. Jenna whimpered, her face scrunching up as Cecile quickly started to bounce her. Hoping to soother her cries. “Are we talking about actual time travel here?”

Iris groaned, tilting her head back. “Do you not ever pay attention to our briefings?” She demanded. “Even once? Even a little bit?”

“Wait a minute,” Wally interrupted. “You didn’t teach him about the Legends?”

“No one said anything about time travel,” Ralph pointed out.

At that, everyone started to speak at once, their voices rising over each other’s as they tried to get answers from each other and simultaneously ask questions. All the while, Alexis stood off to the side, smiling awkwardly, intermittently waving her hand and trying to raise her voice over the din that broke out.

It wasn’t until Jenna started to cry that everyone started to calm down. Cecile quickly leapt to her feet and left the room, bouncing Jenna up and down in her arms, cooing quietly as she went.

Alexis clenched her teeth as she grimaced. She waved her hands. ‘I’m sorry, I know how bizarre this must seem meeting your daughter from the future as an adult.” She turned back and forth from her parents to her brother as she spoke rapid-fire. “It wasn’t my plan at all. But I’m kind of stuck here now, and you’re the only ones who can help me so…maybe you know what to do?”

If we knew what to do, we wouldn’t be in this mess, Barry thought. Every time I’ve ever time traveled, I’ve never been stuck there.

“You’re forgetting about Flashpoint.”

If it were any time before, Barry would’ve been startled by Cadence suddenly speaking, voice soft with sleep. But since their powers merged, they’d seemed to read each other’s mind. Not to say it was an actual ability they had, but the hard work that’d paid off after having had to learn how to work together again once Barry’d come back from the Speed Force. A quick look in the heat of battle conveyed a game plan that they’d follow to the T. They didn’t have to look at each other before flinging themselves off a roof or into a dangerous situation knowing the other would be there in that split second of free fall.

They were a unified front, and in that moment, as Cadence turned and rested her chin on her cheekbone, pressing her elbow into her pillow, he truly felt it. He didn’t have to say anything about Flashpoint out loud, didn’t have to mention any of his thoughts about Alexis and the future, and yet she knew everything he was thinking.

“Flashpoint’s the only time you’ve ever been stuck somewhere,” Cadence reminded him. “Future or past.”

“That was by choice,” Barry reminded her. He took in a deep breath. “I decided to stay. Where things were…” he trailed off, thinking of the best way to explain himself. “Different,” he finally decided. Different, because, both of his parents were alive. He had the life he wanted. And, all the same, it was one of the worst lives he could ever had. His friends weren’t his friends, the love of his life didn’t know he existed, his powers were starting to fail. And the only way he’d gotten back was from trusting the person the hated the most in the world.

“Right,” Cadence agreed. Barry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Cadence let out a quiet sigh through her nose. She looked away for a moment. “I’m just saying it sounds weird.”

“What does?”

“All of it?” Cadence shrugged. “That she’s our daughter, that she’s from the future, that she’s stuck here. It all doesn’t make sense.”

Barry’s eyebrows furrowed even further. He looked her in the eye, searching for an explanation. She looked back at him. Silently prompting him it was his turn to speak his mind. He parted his lips, hesitated. Then rubbed at his eye. “Time travel is a tricky thing. Messing with the timeline…it can have some of the weirdest effects any of us, let alone a speedster, could imagine.”

At that, Cadence lifted an eyebrow. She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, studying her husband. Almost in disbelief. “You believe that she’s stuck here?” Now it was Barry’s turn to shrug as he repeated, “Time travel is trick.” Cadence conceded that point, “Time travel is tricky, it’s dangerous, it affects a lot of things, but no one’s ever gotten stuck anywhere. Other than Eobard Thawne and the only reason he got stuck here was because his Tachyon device made it so he lost his connection to the Speed Force and it kept him stuck here. Alexis doesn’t seem to have that problem at all.”

“We don’t know that.”

“But it’s convenient, don’t you think?” Cadence insisted. “And you’re already saying she’s our daughter?”

“Did you see her? Yellow lightning like mine, a fire trail like yours? It’s definitely her.”

“But?”

“But, I agree with you, I think we need to send her back to her time.”